Final Exodus
by Hippy Chick1964
Summary: CHECK PROFILE NEW INFOWhat if Ianto survived? I'm back w/a story that has our heroes saving the galaxy from a religious war while making wedding plans. Lots of hot, dirty sex and a long visit with Jack's friend and fellow immortal Aliyah Teelbalum. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

"You will recall that I hate flying," said a pale-faced Ianto as he reached across Jack to close the window.

"My vortex manipulator isn't the Doctor's TARDIS," chuckled Jack as he pushed the shade back up. He looked out the window, "My how industrious you humans are! These things were mere toys just less than a century ago – one could barely depend on it to get from London to Manchester without nearly getting killed. Now you fly across the planet in a matter of hours." He stared out at the cotton ball clouds cloaked in setting sunlight and sighed, "You'd be farther out in space by now if your governments weren't so afraid of death. But in time, in time . . ." his voice drifted as if remembering something better kept to oneself.

Gwen peeked over the seat set ahead of Jack's. "Well, Rhys is in a worse condition than you are, Ianto," she said while patting the seat next to her. "I don't think he has spent more than 5 minutes in this seat."

Suddenly, Rhys appeared carrying a wine glass, "Whooha, you wouldn't believe how big this place is!" He took a big gulp, "Typically, I'm a warm bitters man but this Israeli wine is brilliant!"

"I thought you were feeling woozy," asked an incredulous Gwen.

"Ah, this find fit bird offered me a glass . . . said it would calm my stomach and whadaya know, she was right! Smooth as a baby's bottom!" He rubbed his belly then started to take another gulp but flinched sheepishly, remembering that this pregnant wife was not able to enjoy and not sure if it was okay he did.

"Rhys Williams! You're pissed," she said nearly giggling. "Come sit down before you make a mess of yourself."

He complied and sank comfortably in his seat the other side of a shaky Ianto just as turbulence shook the plane slightly. Rhys glanced up briefly as Ianto rushed past him on the way to the washroom, "Hey, Ianto!" he called out raising his nearly empty glass, "You should try this stuff!" In his urgency to avoid shame and insure his blue suit remained pristine, Ianto increased his pace, nearly knocking down an eager steward smiling slyly at Jack and carrying a tray with an extra special vintage.

Of course, Jack took notice of the slight, young frame, come-hither emerald green eyes and aqua fresh whitened teeth. Jack offered his classic sidelong glance, seemingly answering the young man's call. And as the man bent down, his Clariol blonde streaked curls brushing lightly across his forehead, he placed the bottle of Gewurztraminer, 2009 from the Upper Galilee on the counter next to Jack, one glass next to it. He opened the bottle, his eyes half hooded, never leaving Jack's lips, obviously wishing he was the wine glass. Jack too was enjoying the exchange, wondering briefly about the gold ring clinching the steward's left finger.

"Compliments of the crew, Mr. Harkness," purred the steward as he poured. Jack looked just behind the young man, noting the gaggle of female flight attendants giggling just around the corner. Hoping to regain Jack's attention, the steward increased his flirtation, "An off dry, very aromatic white, known for having a delicate sweetness and good balance."

Jack's smile increased slightly. "It's Captain," he said reaching to the young man's hand before it left the bottle. "Captain Jack Harkness, . . . 'Tim'," he said reading the badge.

Tim smiled brightly, like a child awaiting a favored toy. "The card on the tray has information on the wine, Captain Harkness." He reached down and turned the brochure panel over, "and how to get more of it." He stood fully, thinking to give Jack a fuller view of his firm bulge then walked away making sure his weeks in the gym didn't go to waste either.

Jack noticed. Gwen noticed Jack lick his lips. She sat up, turning around in her seat, "Jack!"

"What?" he tried to shrug honestly before shifting further down in his seat.

Gwen shook her head and sat back down on Rhys' behest to help him get the personal entertainment equipment working.

Ianto returned, his face just washed but still pale, to find a half empty bottle of wine and Jack studying a computer screen. Ianto removed his suit jacket, loosened his tie and even unbuttoned his vest, all in an attempt to make the best of the next four hours of flight. Plus, he hated looking like a pansy in front of Jack. "Mmm," he mumbled, his look inquiring.

"I want another look at Aliyah's email," Jack answered, not looking up. Ianto sat then Gwen, who had settled Rhys into his personal inflight movie, came around the to stand by Ianto's seat, ready for some Torchwood action. She leaned forward while Jack clicked some more, "Tosh left me this decode software."

Jack opened an email from a familiar colleague from Torchwood Tel Aviv. Rabbi Aliyah Teelbaum had known Jack since his days as a Time Agent – more of a mother than a friend and never a lover - not that Jack didn't try. The Rabbi was Whoopi Goldberg's wit encased in Hallie Berry's body – but she was an immortal from Jeshurun Prime, a planet settled during Moses' time by Jews who chose to leave with the aliens who brought the Egyptians their pyramid technology. Immortality was a recessive gene on her world, coming from breeding with the planet's aboriginal inhabitants. The blessed were always taken from adolescence and trained in special academies, their other talents fine-tuned then used for the benefit of Jewish people around the galaxy. This was a woman always on a mission and although she adored Jack and had helped Torchwood Cardiff many times in the past, she always felt more parental than sexual toward him. Plus, she was a good 600 years his senior and such temptation felt to her like cradle robbing.

"Why send us something in code?" asked Ianto.

"That's what I'm hoping to find out." Jack kept tapping when the screen transformed itself, Window's Player coming on the screen. Gwen looked around, checking the location of the other passengers. Ianto pulled something from his breast pocket and handed it to Jack. "A sound scrambler," Ianto looked sheepishly between his alien crime fighting partners, "another something Tosh left us. I figured it would come in handy at some point." Jack smiled, grateful that he had such an efficient partner.

Ianto placed the device near the laptop and Jack started the video. Aliyah, dressed casually in beige linen pants and blouse, her small dark braids falling just past her shoulders, began speaking almost immediately. "Hello, Gwen and Jack. Ianto, glad to see you! I hope Jack is treating you well," she said winking as if the two of them shared some special secret. Briefly Ianto blushed as Jack frowned – she had always encouraged their relationship, feeling (correctly in Gwen and Rhys' minds) that Ianto brought some semblance of stability into Jack's life. It hadn't been long ago that Aliyah thought she'd convinced Jack to marry Ianto but dealings with 4-5-6 interrupted things. Through emails from Gwen, Aliyah learned of men's tense break up, including months of silent hostility, unprecedented since Lisa's death. Ianto felt convinced he was alone in his feelings and Jack didn't know how to tell him otherwise. Their reconciliation wasn't quite complete when Torchwood received Aliyah's unexpected invitation to come to Tel Aviv. It was presented as a holiday but they all knew it was something different.

"I hope that the Hub reconstruction went well and the parts I sent you were useful upgrades," Aliyah continued. "But, I will cut the niceties until I see you all." She paused a moment and looked downward, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. "I need your help. The Institute has received some credible intel that could ignite this powder keg of a region and threaten the lives of Jews across the galaxy."

"This must be grave," Jack said grimly. "Aliyah usually doesn't talk in those terms." The others nodded.

"I have consulted with The Doctor and he is going to do what he can from where he is," Aliyah continued, "people on my home planet are working their end while the staff at the Institute will also be at our disposal but this thing may be bigger than them . . . maybe even bigger than all of us." Aliyah's current partner, Sarah, entered the room and sat next to her. Sarah, who resembled a blonde Amazon mob assassin, looked grim – also not a good sign. "Gwen, I know you're in your 5th month and I'm going to do my best to keep you out of harm's way but I figured you'd rather be in thick of it instead of watching the apocalypse on the evening news."

"And Rhys wouldn't let me go without him," smiled Gwen.

"And if things get really bad," Aliyah continued, "I've got a safe house for all of you on _Perturbatio_. I believe Ianto enjoyed the coffee on the intergalactic sky liner that goes there." She winked and Ianto blushed again, embarrassed he had told her of Jack and his adventures with the spotted skinned barista.

"I don't think I've seen Aliyah this frightened," responded Jack. "She normally doesn't joke like this."

The video continued. "I won't say much more but know this – you are being watched. I don't think they'll do anything mid-flight but be careful, watch what you eat and drink." Gwen's eyes widened and dashed over to Rhys, who was obliviously but safely watching "Transformers 3". She nodded back at Jack – he would taste test everything for the rest of the flight. "Sarah will meet you at the airport and bring you to me when I will offer more details. Until then, watch yourselves." The video ended.

Suddenly, Jack found himself wondering if Tim the Married Flight Attendant's attention stemmed from Jack's winning smile.

_It will be good to see Aliyah again. I hope she isn't disappointed though. Jack has made overtures but I am thinking that whatever I felt for him before has faded. Funny, I can forgive him for killing Lisa but not for withholding the existence of daughter and grandson – of his complicity in the 456's original landing. He underestimates me. He'll share the funny stories, the stories of wild adventures or cute antidotes during his journeys with The Doctor, even a wild exploit with some alien lovely. But when it comes to the hard stuff, the things that matter, he's as elusive as a ghost in a windstorm. I know he's done bad things . . . some really bad things probably. Why can't he just tell me? Why do I have to pull it out of him like some archeological dig or wait until it's fallen on my lap? _

"Using an iPad now?" asked Jack pretending nonchalant as he glanced across the Jerusalem Post. "I thought you liked the hard cover feeling of a book journal."

Night had fallen and most of the other passengers, including Gwen and Rhys, were trying to preempt jet lag by getting some sleep. Even in the lowered light, Jack's blue eyes sparkled. "I lost the others in the explosion," replied Ianto as he leaned his seat back further. "This way I can save it to the Torchwood server." He looked up again, hoping Jack would give an encouraging glance. He didn't say anything either.

Ianto went back to writing.

_Who am I fooling! It's not that I don't love him but because of it that I can't reach past this abyss between us – not that he is trying much either. He has not so much as patted my ass since the whole 456 thing started. When I nearly died of that poison gas, he revived me but never said how (and all I can remember of it was this strange taste in my mouth; I would swear it was blood but not mine). He told Gwen that he had an antidote but I doubt it. I was dead – I saw that beautiful white light that everyone talks about – I saw my mum and dad. It was mum that told me to go back. Dad said nothing but then again he never had anything to say to me anyway. _

"I'll be back," Jack said while getting up and walking past Ianto.

_It wasn't long after Hub 2 was finished that he began to go out at night again, like he did before we were together. He never brought back anyone though; I was there late enough to know that. Didn't matter. I've thought about dating again too but who would measure up to the sexist creature across two galaxies? _

"Can I get you a blanket, sir?" asked Married Flight Attendant Tim who seemed to appear from nowhere.

"No, thank you. I believe I have enough covers, thank you."

Ianto wouldn't have looked up but something told him that the strange smell he detected was gunpowder. He saw the small weapon's silencer poking out from under the white blanket and had enough time to wonder how this young man was going to shoot him and not soil the 1200 thread count Egyptian weave blanket before the young man collapsed on the floor by his feet.

Smugly, Jack Harkness stood just behind the assailant's limp body holding his Webly. "The wine tasted funny, so I went to the bathroom and tested it." He pulled out poison kit with the words "Property of the Torchwood Institute" stamped on what looked like something from the 1940s. "I didn't realize I still had thing old thing!"

"Thanks," Ianto stood up. "I'd better get the sky marshal," he said trying to move over the body and around Jack without being drawn like a moth to the flame.

"He's in economy, seat 4F," said Jack, "I really wish the Americans would give their people better disguises."

Ianto nodded affirmatively, still attempting to maneuver away and resist the smell of Jack's pheromones, which had tempted him before, but were now pulling him in like an U.S.S. Enterprise tractor beam. Then suddenly, Jack grabbed Ianto's elbow in a characteristically firm manner. _He does everything like that_, Ianto would later write, _he commands you more than leads-and oh how willingly I obey_.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," said Jack.

Ianto looked him in the eye for the first time in months. "I know," he whispered.

Jack cupped Ianto's cheek and pulled his face to his until their foreheads touched. He closed his eyes then sighed deeply. "I know you're still angry with me . . . still waiting for some sort of apology, an explanation." He felt Ianto's body relent slightly and took that opportunity to pull him closer, brushing his lips against Ianto's ear, "Maybe after this is all over, we'll go on holiday or something." When Ianto didn't say anything, Jack pulled back and looked into the eyes of the still cautious younger man, uncharacteristically searching for reassurance. Ianto smiled slightly and Jack knew, for the first time in months, that they would be okay.

Later, when they got back to their seats, Ianto wrote in his diary, _I joined the mile high club today_. Which was a good thing too as months of celibacy had made Jack quite ravenous.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Termeym, a planet of the Gliese star system and part of the Libra constellation, had one habitable region, Alejnh. The climate was similar to Florida, with Alejnh's cities a mix of sparsely populated swamps and white sand beaches kissing clear blue waters. Only the vegetation and the animals were indigenous – every thing else came from Earth. There were the whites who clogged the beaches and the adjacent luxury 4 star hotels. They stayed only during the four summer months, alternating between Disney Package-like vacation activities with their families and intense business meetings amongst one another. The browns only came to the beaches as servants and then only the women (the beaches needed all kinds of servants). The men lived, trained, and died in the swamps when they weren't dying off-world. There were four times more of the browns than the whites but the racism did not lead to resentment or guilt. Both sides had a purpose, a "higher calling" they would say, that made each group's sacrifices worthwhile. The whites gave the money that created the opportunity and the browns gave their lives to make it happen. Each one would get to heaven – a win-win for all involved.

"This place is bloody huge!" gripped Gwen. "I'm glad I wore flats."

The team walked through Terminal 1 of David Ben-Gurion International. The airport's layout is similar to those in the West, with multiple levels and considerable distances to walk after disembarking the plane. Loudspeakers made timed announcements in Hebrew, English, French, Arabic, Chinese, Russian, and Japanese. But it had to compete with the gaggle of travelers and locales who moved at varied paces through the Buy and Bye, a glass and gold duty-free mall with an open space waterfall surrounded by a variety of shops, restaurants, a post office, and two synagogues. Jack and Ianto had been to Israel less than a year ago to intercept weaponry coming through the newly formed rift Tel Aviv. During that mission, the two traveled to and from a space shuttle using Jack's vortex manipulator. Despite his previous on flight queasiness, Ianto had to admit this form of travel was more pleasing to the eyes.

"Coffee?" he asked, pointing to a Starbucks a short distance away.

"Have your standards dropped, Ianto?" teased Rhys.

Ianto frowned, "I'm thirsty."

"I'm afraid we don't have time, folks!" Jack interjected while stopping everyone to look at an airport map. "We're supposed to pick up a _monit sherut_ to the Institute."

"A what?" asked Gwen, who was thumbing through Pocket Hebrew to figure out how to ask someone for the location of a bathroom.

"A shared taxi," Jack said while drawing her attention to the universal sign for bathroom on the map.

She nodded, said she would be right back, and took off quickly. "The baby's started moving around," said Rhys monitoring her departure, looking around for anything that seemed suspicious. "She's having trouble sleeping." He sighed, "I'm not sure this was such a good idea, us coming here."

Jack smiled slightly, "It wasn't like you were going to stop her." He put his hand reassuredly on the man's shoulder, "I wouldn't worry about her in here anyway. This airport is one of the most secure in the world."

"Except for people trying to poison you," Ianto said.

"Well, nothing's one hundred percent!" Jack gave his partner an irritated look, "Besides, Aliyah promised to keep Gwen behind the scenes."

"And I will be with her the whole time just to make sure of that, Jack Harkness," warned Rhys. "I know you Torchwood types – always tempting her with the promise of some adventure or another."

If he only knew where I wanted to take her, thought Jack. Ianto, with the ESP of most intimate partners, heard Jack's thought and responded by rolling his eyes and walking off to get coffee. When both he and Gwen returned, they all boarded a shuttle that would take them to the taxi stands.

The yellow minivans were jotting in and out of makeshift curb parking spots. Stationed drivers called out with the available passenger space like market hawkers while irritated customers dodged an early, fierce October rain to get themselves and their bags into the cabs. "Are you sure this is safe?" asked Rhys. "How come Aliyah isn't sending someone for us?"

Jack, looking around for a cab suitable for all of them said, "The _monit sherut_ are the fastest form of travel in the country. The service runs 7 days a week, including on Sabbath." He spotted a nearly empty cab and started herding the others toward it, "Middle Easterners are not known for their driving skills, even here – they redefine road rage. It even humbles me so I would rather leave the driving to the experts, particularly if we have to make a quick escape of it."

"Are you expecting more trouble here than off world?" asked Ianto.

"I'm expecting to be surprised." Jack opened the taxi door then looked inside to see sat Sarah, Aliyah's wife. "Well, fancy meeting you here!"

She thought it too much wasted effort to roll her eyes – she had never liked Jack, finding him undisciplined and unnecessarily reckless at the best of times. She sat erect in the back seat wearing her customary army camouflage, her hair bound in an efficient ponytail. Sarah looked at the rest of the team with what passed for smile in some special forces rule book, gesturing them to specific seats in the cab. When her sharp, gray eyes reached Jack again, she gave him a stern look and put her sunglasses on. Ianto negotiated loading the baggage with the driver, a small sheepish man who communication alternated from mumblings in Hebrew and English to an international sign language that seemed to always end with something that looked like "I don't know". When both men got into the van, Sarah rapped the cab roof with her fist and the driver took off in such a jolt it got Ianto wishing Jack was driving.

"And it's nice to see you too, Sarah," quipped Jack, always trying to get a rise. "I suppose you know what's going on here but will refuse to tell, eh?"

She reached for an Android tablet from within black messenger bag on the seat next to her, moved her index finger several times across the screen then handed the device to Ianto. He scanned through a set of familiar algorithms and biopatterns. "It's the Tel Aviv rift again." He paused before exclaiming, "These are huge! Rift seams this wide should be unstable." He handed the tablet to Jack.

"I haven't seen anything like this in a hundred years when a school of Traggrowsites tried to get through."

"When?" asked Gwen who peered over Jack's shoulder to get a better view. "What would need that much space to get into our world?"

"An army?" Rhys shrugged.

"A large army." Sarah seemed to beam at the very idea.

"Anything coming through?" asked Jack handing the device back to Ianto.

"Not yet but soon."

"Curious."

"Not really," Ianto replied. "The readings are occurring in very particular patterns, three times a day at alternating times but staying open at the same intervals. This is a practice run."

Jack sighed heavily and lean back in his seat, "Practicing for an invasion."

"So who's invading Earth now?" Rhys asked Sarah, as if it was all such a bother. "How long do we have?"

"That's what you're here to find out."

"And I guess we're supposed to stop the invasion too, eh?" said Jack sarcastically.

"Yep."

The Cymbalista Synagogue and Jewish Heritage Center sits at the heart of Tel Aviv University. Its purpose is to contribute to the understanding and meeting of minds and hearts among the different sectors of the Jewish people: between the religious and the secular, and between the different streams of Judaism - Orthodox, Conservative and Reform. And when the second rift in Israel was discovered, it was a natural choice for a second Torchwood site. The young staff working with Aliyah could move in and out of without much notice through the false wall next to the _Aron Kodesh_, or Holy Ark which contained the beautifully adorned, handwritten Torah scrolls. Once inside, the Institute's hub was a stark, darken, windowless room containing a large round antique oak table with carvings of 5th Century Roman writing. Aliyah swore it belonged to Artorius Castus and his Sarmatian soldiers – King Arthur and his Knights of the Roundtable. But mounted torches, swords, and large chalices filled with wine were replaced by energy efficient halogen desk lamps, laptops, and venti double shot espressos – male knights in armor were replaced by hunched women and men, all their heads covered by large, colorful yarmulkes, skull-caps worn by the devout to signify that they were engaged in G-d's work. And unlike Arthur, Rabbi Aliyah Teelbaulm stood in the middle of the table, maneuvering a bright but clear holographic computer screen instead of welding the majestic Excalibur.

When Torchwood Cardiff folk arrived, even Jack was a bit taken aback. They were used to the gentle sage in her famous reimaged 1960s American regalia, from the long thin dreadlocks to the tan Birkenstocks. But the woman before them today was a warrior, down the black thigh high IDF issued boots. Aliyah's voice was harsh, quick-fire, moving from Hebrew to English then another language even Jack didn't recognized but her staff understood completely. Ianto picked up a few of the Hebrew words – rift, preparations, and holocaust.

One of the staff was able to edge in what sounded like a question, for which Aliyah harshly replied, "The soldiers fight, and the kings are heroes."

Gwen took several quiet, diplomatic steps forward to announce their presence with a warm, distracting smile. Aliyah responded immediately, her continence changing almost immediately, returning to the rabbi who help a reluctant Ianto Jones to pursue the love of a wounded immortal and convinced an uncertain Jack Harkness to take a chance on love - again. A large smile lightened Aliyah's face and she nearly dislodged a diligently typing staff as she ducked under the table to hug an awaiting Gwen Cooper.

"Hine mah Tov umah naʿiym sheveth aḥ-iym gam ya-ḥadh," recited Aliyah. ""Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!" She embraced them all warmly, except Jack, who she slapped. "You and I will talk later," she warned like a disappointed mother.

"Hey," asked Jack, rubbing his jaw, "Where's the love?"

He was complaining to her back as she led his team toward a small conference room. "No time," she called back, "as Sherlock Holmes would say, 'there's evil afoot'."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Aliyah offered no more explanation, handing Jack, Ianto, and Gwen each anonymous looking, thin manila folders then begged off, mumbling she had some service or other to officiate as she disappeared behind a nearby door. Sarah, appearing out of nowhere, as usual, silently escorted each couple through winding narrow hallways to their rooms. In the hallway, Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn" quietly drifted by them, piped in like some unfortunate 70s elevator music. Each remembered stanza as the lyrics eerily reflected the differing status of each relationship.

Surprisingly, the rooms looked more like upscale hotel suites than a space in what was for all practical purposes a bunker. Almost immediately upon entering, Ianto took detailed notes, including measurements, as he had been considering talking the Torchwood architects and designers charged with the second phase of the Hub's rebuilding effort about including living space. In their few conversations during the days immediately following the 456's defeat, he demanded (but later described in his diary as "argued") for adequate sleeping space for "current and future Torchwood staff" so people would have their own area whenever their work required an overnight stay. He envisioned a Hub that was more like a community (like Torchwood London was becoming before its demise) than just an office with a lab, a morgue, and holding pens. He even insisted on a nursery – for when Gwen and Rhys' daughter was born and it was safer for the whole family to be together. Jack initially rejected the idea outright. He considered the Hub as his home, his private space at night. He smugly suspected Ianto wanted to keep an eye on him, jealous of any new "adventure" he might take. Later Jack was wounded when he overheard Ianto tell Rhys of his plans to remain permanently at his flat in Roath, near his favorite coffee shop. Jack acquiesced to Ianto plans almost immediately. But Ianto stayed in Roath.

In the middle of his design ideas, Ianto got a call. "Okay. I'll call you when I get back . . . Yes, I'll make it up to the kids . . .Of course, movies and ice cream, I know. I gotta go, sis . . . Okay, bye." Ianto put his mobile inside his suit jacket then unpacking the luggage.

"Your sister okay?"

"Hmmhm."

"Sorry you had to miss dinner," Jack was trying to make his apology sound as sincere as he felt, "but this was the best flight."

Ianto had his back to him. He was still angry. "Mile high" sex or not, there was still a lot to say and maybe even more to do but he could not wrap himself around a place to start. Jack always figured intimacy was enough, that his winning smile and dancing blue eyes were enough. . .and it was enough for things like leaving the top off the toothpaste or being extraordinarily late for dinner but lies were different, especially lies of omission. Typically, when Jack and he had a row, Ianto would talk or email Aliyah – she was always so good at explaining Jack and of keeping Ianto clear that this was no ordinary relationship. But with things so serious and the planet, if not more, at threat, it didn't seem appropriate to bother the learned woman with something as mundane as "How do I forgive him? How do I understand, let alone accept what he's done?"

Ianto realized that he dropped something. Opening the door to the hall, the song was still was still playing. With Jack chattering in the background about the mission, some lyrics mirrored his thoughts.

_I thought I saw a man brought to life_

_He was warm_

_He came around and he was dignified_

_He showed me what it was to cry_

_Well you couldn't be that man I adored_

_You don't seem to know_

_Or seem to care what your heart is for_

_Well I don't know him anymore_

_There's nothing where he used to lie_

_My conversation has run dry_

_That's what's going on_

_Nothing's fine I'm torn_

When Ianto came back inside the room, Jack was still standing behind him trying to make up for his awkwardness with chatter that would have been ridiculous if it was important. Ianto decided to take charge of the situation, "Jack!" He waited three heartbeats and lowered his voice, "I do love you . . . still . . . but please shut up and let me unpack before we dive into this. You know I hate wrinkles."

Jack obeyed and sat on the bed, waiting.

Pregnancy increased Gwen's pensiveness, which worried Rhys more than this mission. Actually, he hoped the mission would return her liveliness – that is why he agreed they should go. He could tell that Gwen wanted to beg off.

As they dragged their bags into the room, Gwen heard the song fading into the background. She found herself humming the words to herself.

_So I guess the fortune teller's right_

_I should have seen just what was there_

_And not some holy light_

_But you crawled beneath my veins_

_And now I don't care_

_I have no luck_

_I don't miss it all that much_

_There's just so many things_

_That I can't touch I'm torn_

Like always, Gwen dared not share what was really going on. This form of lying to Rhys had decreased since he unofficially became part of Torchwood. She didn't mind – she actually kinda liked having him around. He was surprisingly helpful, always driving to the single, simple answer that allows the puzzle pieces to come together. And she had settled her feelings for Jack, honestly and happily – more so than even she had imaged. But pregnancy had changed things. She knew it was the hormones, adapting to the rapid changes to her body and anticipations of motherhood. But, resurrected were those old feelings for Jack.

When she analyzed it, Jack was an archetype – an embodiment of adventure and possibility. Once she passed into her second trimester, the dreams started – vivid and exciting. She would wake herself up, sweating and deeply aroused. The dream followed a pattern – she is alone in the Hub, with her face nearly embedded in the computer screen, typing feverishly. He comes up behind her, his rich masculine smell wrapping around, drawing her back in the chair with a tingling massage. His voice is soft but she barely understands his orders. By the time he actually touches her breasts, her nipples are already uncomfortably bursting through her bra. She moves her body against his fingers which develops a rhythm that increases her arousal such that when his hands finally touched her skin, she nearly leaps from the chair. He smirks and removes his fingers which cause her to whimper. A vague memory, an image comes to her, making her jump from her chair again, breaking the intimacy but leaving her shirt open and her breast exquisitely exposed. He gives her a slide line glance then gestures her to be quiet by putting his index finger to her lips, brushing them gently. As he comes even closer to her, she closes her eyes and takes that same finger in her mouth, licking it more than sucking at first until she realizes he had removed her shirt and bra. Her eyes fly open, shocked more at herself than at him. She had crossed a line. She's afraid. The words she had just forgotten came back to her lips, forcing her to drop his finger like a child caught taking from the cookie jar.

It was the words and not the guilt that woke her, "Rhys and Ianto". It felt like a disgraced samurai's dagger had ripped her soul, forcing her to sit up and scream, regret droplets within tears streaming from her widened eyes.

"Whoya!" said the startled Rhys when he saw his wife go from a dead sleep to nearly leaping from her skin. He set down the folder Aliyah had given them, "Are you alright there, hon?" He reached out and pulled her close to comfort her. Her breathing was fast and shallow, "Is there something wrong?" He noticed she was clinching her slightly protruding belly. "Is there something with the baby? Should I call a doctor?"

"What?" Gwen was still disoriented, looking around room, uncertain how she came to be there. "What?"

Rhys brushed her hair, matted on her face by sweat and tears, and looked at her lovingly, "It's okay, luv." He smiled at her to reassure, "You fell asleep. Jet lag I suppose. You do feel alright, eh?" He was posed for action but her relaxing breathes and slowly calming continence led him to believe it was another one of her pregnancy dreams, "Another bad one, huh? You really should watch the coffee. You know it gives you indigestion now." He gave her knee a loving tap, "I know what you need! Some of that new tea Ianto found – you know, that orangey stuff with the Chinese herbs. Always sets your stomach right!" He started to get up to find the electric kettle.

Him speaking Ianto's name fully reoriented her, "No, no, Rhys." She tugged at his elbow, "Come back to bed." He looked at her inquisitively. "I don't think I need tea." She gathered her hair behind her head to clear the remaining strands, "I've got a better medicine."

Rhys picked up her train of thought immediately. Like most men, his wife was extra beautiful pregnant with his child and he liked soaking in that beauty. "Well, if you insist," he said, falling back into the bed with her.

Later, as Rhys lay snoring blissfully beside her, she smiled at him and considered how lucky she was to have a truly good man. She leaned over to put a thank you kiss on his cheek when she noticed the file on the floor next to the bed. She picked it up, grabbed her glasses from the bedstand, and started reading. A fourth of the way through, she remembered that the difference between fantasy and reality in Torchwood was a layer of death and doom.

The leader of Torchwood Tel Aviv and her wife lived in the building's tower. Despite the obvious safety concerns, Aliyah loved living close to the sky – she did not like surprises and she wanted to see the invasion whether it came from Earth or space. But, she acquiesced and allowed Sarah to design and install an unprecedented security system that made the windows part of an intergalactic monitoring system. If and when an enemy comes into tracking range, the windows become an automatic, interactive computer screen, directly connected to the world wide Torchwood system allowing for access to communications and tactical operations while not being seen by anyone standing outside the compound. You could stand there preventing intergalactic Armageddon in your nightie.

However, this was likely not a "nightie night" as it was well after midnight before Aliyah came to their apartment, ragged and exhausted. She felt miserable and the rewinding elevator music in the hallways was irritating her even more than usual because of lyrics particular untimely potency.

_I'm all out of faith_

_This is how I feel_

_I'm cold and I am shamed_

_Lying naked on the floor_

_Illusion never changed_

_Into something real_

_I'm wide awake_

_And I can see_

_The perfect sky is torn _

The Israeli government was aware of a plot to destroy every man, woman and child in the country and Torchwood was ordered to do nothing but monitor it. The order came from the Prime Minister and the leader of the Knesset, the Israeli parliament, in unusual agreement as the two hated one another. Unlike the other Torchwood Institutes, hers was not "beyond" the government because of the sensitivity of the locale and the multiple interests involved, working through the government and intelligence services was prudent. Usually, this worked well and she was given independence unprecedented, the envy of other departments except Mossad, Israel's version of M-5, who found aliens to be a messy business. But this time she was denied flat out, no explanation – well, not a good one anyway. Okay, Aliyah had worked around this before. Yet, what made it gut wrenching was that it wasn't clear if harnessing the energy and will of all the world's Torchwood Institutes could stop the plot and it was clear the Western powers would not engage theirs own. It was likely that Israel would be erased from the map and that the Jews living in the here-to-now "safe" countries would be sent into slavery on off-world mines – just like so many times in Earth history, her people were to be sacrificed.

And she was ordered to just sit here and watch. Fat chance.

_I'm all out of faith_

_This is how I feel_

_I'm cold and I am shamed_

_Lying naked on the floor_

_Illusion never changed_

_Into something real_

_I'm wide awake_

_And I can see_

_The perfect sky is torn_

_You're a little late_

_I'm already torn_

She convinced the government to let Torchwood Cardiff help, probably figuring that three people couldn't cause too much havoc. They didn't appreciate that these three were the best, despite their constant interpersonal scrabbles. She smiled when she thought about them both then and now, as she had done as much as Jack to insure their growth as a team. Albeit her role was from a far, she had regularly emailed with Ianto, Skyped with Toshiko, texted or tweeted with Owen, and gabbed for hours on the phone with Gwen. The Doctor had a setting called "the case manager" installed on Jack's votex manipulator to bring him to her when it was necessary and appropriate. Now that Rhys was an unofficial member, she would cultivate their relationship, likely the same way as she convinced him that Gwen didn't love Torchwood more than him and convinced him to propose – over a pint in his favorite pub. The team was leaner now – she hadn't counted on Tosh and Owen dying – but in many ways better. Rhys had learned that love is an action verb thus how to love his complicated wife. Ianto was avidly and successfully struggling to become the second love of Jack's long life, next to himself (Ianto's recent rabid emails aside – soon he would accept that the joy of this relationship comes through the process of living it). After the baby is born and the boys get married, Aliyah thought while she undressed, it will be time to recruit new members (she had been eyeing two CIA workers in Washington, D.C). Then she sighed aloud, "If we get out of this alive."

But now, she needed to give Sarah some attention. Aliyah sighed heavily again and looked at her lover, getting a reciprocal warm smile in return. Sarah was already naked, eager to please. In that sense, she was rather like Ianto – only his scars were all internal while hers were reddish raised keloids across her torso, legs, and back. During her work with the IDF, she was captured by the militant Palestinian group Hamas while working at a Jordanian border crossing. She was held captive for 3 years, alternatively beaten, gang raped, and held in isolation until a month prior to her release in a prisoner exchange. Her torture included frequent electric shock to her nipples until they were no longer sensitive and eventually so infected, they had to be surgically removed. Sarah learned the power of silence during her ordeal and was proud of the fact that throughout it all she never cried out. The debriefers from military intelligence were so impressed with her that she received the Medal of Distinguished Service, awarded for acts of exemplary bravery in the line of duty. In 1995, she was commissioned by Shin Bet, Israel's internal security service, to Torchwood Tel Aviv. Initially, she acted as Aliyah and her then husband, Abram, and their daughter Miriam's personal guard but quickly rose to head the Institute's entire security unit. Abram died in 9-11 while in New York on Institute business. Sarah returned to guarding Aliyah and her daughter personally. A relationship that started from grief and loneliness grew unexpectedly into a deep love and admiration – Aliyah taught Sarah how to trust enough to talk again while Sarah reminded Aliyah that a caretaker needs to be taken care of. And a teenage Miriam was just glad to see her mom smile again.

"Everyone settled in their rooms?"

"Yes, and I made sure that Gwen got those extra provisions you requested."

"Ah yes, the tea kettle and additional pillows."

"And the boys?"

"Vietnamese coffee beans, a bottle of hypervodka, and a red U.N.I.T. hat," Sarah grumbled. "I still don't understand what Ianto sees in that creature."

Aliyah chuckled, likely for the first time since she had been informed of the current plot against her people. "They have things to teach each other," she stood close to Sarah and caressed her face with the back of her hand, "just like we did."

"Humph, it is just as easy to fall in love with a nice guy as it is with a careless one!"

Aliyah began kissing and licking Sarah's cheek then moved down to nuzzle her neck, "Give it a rest. Those two are predestined and will bring greatness to this world." She moved Sarah's hand between her legs so she could feel the wetness forming at the top of her thighs. "Anyway, your text earlier hinted at some relaxing massage." Aliyah proceeded to roll Sarah's earlobe with her tongue and got an exquisite groan for her efforts.

Sarah, who was 4 inches taller than the 5'3" Aliyah, and despite her wounds, had a beautiful sleek, muscular body, easily lifted her partner in her arms then deposited her on the nearby bed. Aliyah giggled like a school girl as she felt the slight bounce when she landed. Sarah liked that sound – the sound of Aliyah letting go – and liked it even more knowing that she was the cause of it. She lowered herself to Aliyah's side and began to caress her body with light strokes and circles at critical places on her brown skin. When she hit just the right spot, Aliyah's eyes would close tight and she'd glow – a special trait of the telepaths on her planet. It would happen most often during sex but many congregants noticed it during her most passionate sermons or when she was officiating a wedding.

By the time Sarah reached her clit, Aliyah was illuminating the king size bed such that their figures casted shadows on the ceiling. She sat up on her arm and traced circles around the protruding bud, not missing a beat while looking around the bed for something. Aliyah started to shake so Sarah slowed, which made Aliyah whimper disappointedly. Sarah stopped, coated her middle finger by dipping it quickly into Aliyah's pulsating pussy, then brought the drenched finger to Aliyah's half open mouth. She sat up further and purred in Aliyah's ear while Aliyah sucked the finger greedily, "Now aren't we naughty?" Sarah removed the finger which made Aliyah open her eyes and give a frustrated look. Sarah reached above their heads and pulled something from underneath the pillow. "I've brought something new to the party," she said while showing the glass dildo to Aliyah.

"Ah, nice," Aliyah said with a note of excitement.

"You don't know the half of it," responded Sarah with a sly raised eyebrow. The device was stacked bulbs of increasing size, meant for vaginal (the larger end) and anal (the smaller end) pleasure. But when Sarah rubbed the larger end, the dildo moved in slow, subtle rotations. Aliyah looked at the device then Sarah incredulously. "The last set of Altastian sex workers who came through the rift had it with them when we arrested them. In exchange for letting them go back without detention, they let me have it." She smiled prideful at her cleverness, "It's actually a living creature – some kind of fish that lives deep in their oceans."

"What does it feed on?"

"What do you think?" Sarah put it against Aliyah's belly then leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Pussy juices." Aliyah giggled again.

Sarah moved between Aliyah's legs, using her elbows to coax them over her shoulders. Then she positioned the dildo, smaller side first, inside Aliyah's cunt only as far as the first bulb. Aliyah shifted her hips, squirming to engage the dildo deeper. But Sarah was sly and pulled it out. It was wiggling intensely, having happily fed. Her lips kissed Aliyah's clit and her tongue rolled around it. She closed her eyes and groaned, her body glowing brightly. She rolled her hips in the opposing direction of Sarah's tongue to increase the friction. Sarah let her do this for a few moments, then pulled away again, just as Aliyah began to shiver. Panting and mumbling, pleading for release, Aliyah stopped rocking her hips. Once her breathing started to settle again, Sarah repositioned the lubed dildo again, this time at the entrance of her anus. At this, Aliyah barred down on the device guiding it past the third bulb, shivering with delight at the brief pain and exquisite sensation that began to creep through her body. Sarah began licking her clit again and Aliyah circled her hips again in opposing direction to both vibrating dildo and tongue.

Luckily, several years ago Sarah had their rooms soundproofed.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Morning ops were at 0800 hours. Bagels, donuts, fresh fruit were supplied but your iPad better be ready to record at 8:04am.

Standing before military, security, and civilian staff alike, Rabbi Teelbaulm, in army fatigues and clergy garb, lowered her eyes as if to insure a proper connection, then offered the benediction: "_Y'hi ratzon milfanekha A-donai E-loheinu ve-lohei avoteinu she-tolikhenu l'shalom v'tatz'idenu l'shalom_ . . ." She opened her eyes and everyone raised theirs. She looked forward fiercely, her English translation more affirmation than prayer, "May it be Your will, Adonai, our God and the God of our ancestors, that You lead us toward peace, guide our footsteps toward peace, and make us reach our desired destination for life, gladness, and peace. May You rescue us from the hand of every foe, ambush along the way, and from all manner of punishments that assemble to come to earth. May You send blessing in our handiwork, and grant us grace, kindness, and mercy in Your eyes and in the eyes of all who see us. May You hear the sound of our humble request because You are God Who hears prayer requests. Blessed are You, Adonai, Who hears prayer."

Aliyah sat. Everyone sat. Papers were shifted toward her from various staff persons. She quickly reviewed them signed and passed the important ones to the right, leaving the others on her left. Sarah reached over, collected both piles, and resorted them all into their correct groups - government lackey vs Knesset official, vs conversation with the American ambassador, vs lunch with Hillary, vs text exchanges with Barak – eventually Sarah put the additional group back in front of Aliyah, who signed with the "oh, bother" continence of an irritated Southern belle and pushed them back toward Sarah. An assistant, equally atoned with this routine, within moments arrived at Sarah's side to take the paper and scurry off to complete his tasks.

Besides Torchwood Cardiff staff, Aliyah, Sarah, and three apparently nondescript Institute staff, the round table was filled by ten males and five females dressed similar garb, all retired, formerly high ranking military and security services personnel. Many were barely teens during the '67 War and their eyes were sharpened by years in the border towns correctly or incorrectly halting suicide bombers – these people weren't about to let a bunch of aliens take away what they had spent their life securing. The rabbi had called on folk who knew her real identity – what she had done for the nation even before statehood - all those who understood that "Operation Shoah" was not about stopping angry, disenfranchised teenagers from throwing rocks or anticipating the next mortar attack on an unauthorized village in the occupied territories. This wasn't just about the Jews - though everyone would think so – should the enemy's plot go unchallenged, the world, possibly the galaxy, would be cast into the dictatorial system of Hitler's wet dreams.

Aliyah opened the meeting, "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to have the special staff from Torchwood Cardiff join us." She nodded in the team's direction.

Some soldiers exchanged gasps of incredulousness and irritation but only the Colonel

shouldn't that be Colonel Avarims dared to say anything aloud, "_Slicha, Rebbe? Mey anesheym halh_?" Sarah shot him the same look a mother gives when an unruly child chews with his mouth open at dinner. The colonel groaned through his thin pursed lips and translated his concern, "No disrespect but the Cardiff team's record has been less than stellar." He removed his half-glasses from his face, giving one a clearer view of the fire scars that depleted much of his left check and eye lid. He used the glasses to point to Jack, "Besides, their leadership is, what is the word . . . ?" he paused to roll his eyes, ". . . _unpredictable_, at best."

"Hey!" Jack started to stand and object but Gwen grabbed his arm and held him down. Besides, Sarah gave him an even harsher look than she had given the colonel – more like she would have actually shot Jack.

"Colonel," responded Aliyah, "you will recall that Captain Harkness has helped our cause in the past, both as leader and personally?" A few supporters at the table nodded in eager agreement, particularly the women. "May I remind you of Cardiff's role just last summer in preventing that alien shipment of weapons from coming through the rift." Aliyah did not look directly at Avarim but put on her glasses and turned her eyes to a new set of papers placed in front of her by the assistant. She paused to give something a closer look, signed it, and pasted it back to the assistant before speaking again in a tone of a forgone conclusion, "And I need not remind you colonel of the role that Captain Harkness played in defusing several bombs thus saving your son's life."

Now it was Jack's turn to groan under his breath. He leaned toward Ianto and whispered, "She would have brought _that_ up!"

"_Heva penh at henked shely letvek noshech kariot_! " The colonel's face was inflamed and his right cheek matched the horrid redness of his left. He started to stand, "I demand we vote on this matter."

Aliyah did not immediately look up but raised an eyebrow, then her tone before her voice brought him back to his seat. "Enad, your grandson was gay well before Jack came along and you knew that." She was looking at him now and he had enough sense to return to his seat because the others were now too giving him disparaging looks, "Besides, that is a vote you know you would lose. _Haval al hazmanand_ –we don't have time and should focus on the matter at hand."

"Really, Jack!" said an exasperated Ianto.

Jack mimed, "Who knew?" and dismissed his partner's irritation.

Aliyah moved on, "For this mission to work, we need outsiders." She opened a folder similar to the one she gave the Cardiff members at their arrival, "The group that passes for a government won't upset the Americans and the Torchwood there reeks of the same people responsible for our current problem – evangelicals angling for some old time religion. They promise that because we pave the way to the Messiah's second coming, that we have a 'place in the process'. Yeah, that's true, if we quit being Jews and become first in line join their, 'one true faith'." She pulled out three particular photos from the file. "Cardiff's cover story is they are here for a wedding that I'm officiating."

"Really?" said Rhys, who realized just before Jack did, who was getting married.

Ianto shrugged as if it was all part of some game, "It won't be legal."

"Technically, you are incorrect, Ianto," Aliyah countered. "Israel does not, allow same-sex couples to marry on Israeli soil. However, Israel does recognize same sex marriage conducted legally in other countries." She smiled kindly at him and softened her tone, ". . . as well as those conducted on other planets and star stations."

Gwen thought she'd save Ianto further embarrassment, "How does this fit into the plan?"

Aliyah recognized the kindness and shifted her attention. She nodded toward one of the female soldiers, Lieutenant Colonel Newsum. Newsum, a slight, short woman with dulled brown hair, unrolled a wireless keyboard, quickly typed something, and stood while the revolving 3-D holographic image appeared above the table. "Ladies and gentleman," she said in a highly accented voice, "this is Walter Townsend." Several photos images presented themselves in an extended slide show of the world's most average looking upper middle class man from childhood to middle age, ending with an inconsequential looking picture of Townsend standing in-between two other inconsequential men, one Black the other looked somewhat Latino. The three were in sports jerseys outside a nondescript outdoor arena, smiling, looking like old friends on an afternoon at the ball field. "Don't let the smiles of these ordinary looking men fool you. They may be small business owners, deacons in their local churches, one is even a member of his town's city council. However, these men, Charles Stratton on the left and Theodore Johnson on Townsend's right, are the key figures in this plot."

"So, am I right," Rhys inquired, "these guys are trying to make Armageddon happen instead of waiting for it to happen naturally?"

"What does that really mean? How can they do that?" asked Gwen.

"That's what I need you to find out," answered Aliyah. She nodded at Lieutenant Colonel Newsum who moved the slide to a new image. "A few days ago, we captured two of their operatives but we haven't been able to get them to talk."

"What, the standard torture techniques not working for ya?" joked Jack.

"Neither speak Hebrew, Arabic, English or French. They only speak Welsh." The screen switched to a map of Wales. "They're from Cowbridge, about 25 kilometers west of Cardiff."

"Cardiff?" queried Ianto.

"Yes, we were surprised too – another reason we needed you guys for this task," said Aliyah as looked around the room as if to remind the others again. "Before we do anything – launch any sort of attack or make any military move, the Knesset is right, we need more complete and better intel. I want Gwen to interview our guests – use her unique style and language finesse to get more from these two than just locations and invasion sites. That's the easy part. What we don't know are the details on the ground – who we are really facing." The other military at the table nodded in agreement.

Turning to Gwen, Jack noted in an aggrieved tone, "I had no idea you spoke fluent Welsh."

"Well, there'd be a lot you wouldn't know about Gwen's talents, eh Harkness," countered Rhys.

Jack sat back in his chair, his lips forming a slight pout which Gwen responded to by rolling her eyes. If anything had convinced her that Rhys was a better choice it was Jack's rampant narcissism. Leave it to Ianto to be on task, "What do you want the rest of us to do?"

Aliyah began to stand while gathering papers, an indication to the others that the meeting was about to adjourn, "Rhys will be working with Sarah monitoring the internet chatter and the daily reports sent by our off-world operatives." She looked at Rhys directly, "You have a keen eye that sees through the bullshit to where the needle is in the haystack. I need that eye right now?"

Sarah walked over to the other members, handing them files and instructions about the next meeting. Aliyah walked over to the Torchwood Cardiff team. "I know I'm not giving you much to work with but all we have right now is jumbled. I know something horrible is out there and posed to charge through the rift at any time. The rest is still unclear and no one will move until I have solid evidence – plotters emails, pictures of illegal training camps, maps with targets clearly indicated." She leaned down to whisper the next thoughts, "The three we showed you, Townsend, Stratton, and Johnson, are Americans and the Israeli government cannot act against citizens of its largest supporter without guaranteed, iron-clad proof . . . and even then, I'm not sure that will be enough."

"From what your files told us, these two are the likely heads of the most powerful evangelical Christian movement no one knows about," Ianto interjected.

"Correct," Aliyah said. "And by their own admission, all the evangelicals need Jews for is to usher in the Messiah – after that we are expendable. But if they . . . "

Rhys finished the sentence, ". . . if they already have the Messiah, what do they need the Jews for?"

"They could create the timetable and control the revelation themselves, then set things up so that only they and their supporters survive."

"And their supporters, the rest of the evangelical community would simply see it as part of God's plan," Ianto said.

"Exactly," replied Aliyah. "But there is an off-world connection and I am counting on you Gwen and Rhys to find out what it is. Sarah will brief you further on how we captured these two and what we know from our preliminary background investigation." As Sarah came to them, Gwen and Rhys nodded and started to leave with her.

"And what exactly do you want me to do?" asked Jack, pouting again.

Aliyah offered a slight smirk, "Just be the happy couple. Do you think you can do that?"

"I make a fabulous blushing bride!"

Aliyah ignored Jack's frivolity and turned to Ianto, handing him a iPad, "Sarah already started a Facebook page for your wedding. I need you to keep it updated – regular journaling of how excited you both are, plans for the wedding dinner, worries about whether the tuxedoes will arrive on time." Ianto looked at the screen as if it was someone else's life splashed across the Web. "Start with finalizing the arrangements for Jack's bachelor party – space has already been reserved at Evita for tonight at 9pm. It is the hottest spot in gay Tel Aviv and Sarah had to pull several strings to get space there." Aliyah pointed to a list of invitees at the bottom of the screen. "I took the liberty of inviting some of Jack's old friends."

"'Old friends as it comes to Jack could mean anyone from Julius Caesar to John Kennedy," quipped Ianto as he reviewed the list.

"Kennedy's back only stopped him from sleeping with Jackie," reflected Jack.

"Oh really, Jack!" responded Gwen as she and Rhys followed Sarah away. "I really never know when you're kidding or telling the truth."

Ianto however was not amused and demonstrated such by rather loudly closing the flap on the iPad, turning on his heel and walking back to their rooms. This led Aliyah to frown but Jack remain nonplussed. "You two may need to fight in private but in public, you have to do better than that if this is going to work," she chastised.

"He'll get over it."

"No, I don't think either of you understand," Aliyah insisted. "For this plan to work, you will be getting married, off-world and it will be binding, for as long as he lives – nothing pretend here."

"Why are you so insistent? Why is this marriage so important?"

Aliyah's eyes narrowed, her voice regained the harsh edge it had when they arrived the day before, "Because I know how you resuscitated Ianto after the 456's poisoning." Jack's eyes widened with shock, incredulous as to how she could have learned of his deception. He looked like the loyal citizen caught stealing the Crown Jewels. There was no one left in the room, yet Aliyah leaned against Jack's right ear and whispered, "The resurrection mitten was one thing – you knew it wouldn't work for long, that's why Susie coming back so completely surprised you." Now she was snarling, "But what you did to Ianto breached the laws of time and bounded that man to fate he did not ask for. And I'M SURE YOU DID NOT TELL HIM."

Jack hung his head like a condemned prisoner, "I was . . . desperate. I didn't know what else to do. I didn't expect them to do that! They had never harmed anyone in the past." At this, his head sunk even lower, ". . . except the children." He looked up at Aliyah, eyes filled with tears and pleading, "I couldn't lose him . . . not him . . . not . . . now!"

Aliyah stood up tall, taking on that regal, God's representative edge that only clergy can feint. "'He that can't endure the bad, will not live to see the good'," she quoted before she walked away. When the rabbi reached the exit, she directed a combined threat and prediction over her shoulder, "You will do right by him, Jack Harkness. You _will_ marry him. After that, God have mercy on both of you."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

With Aliyah's help, at 5:30am that next morning, Ianto was dragging a drunken, babbling Jack back to Torchwood Tel Aviv. Sarah refused to do more than open doors. They got Jack in the room and the girls excused themselves. Ianto was able to get Jack stripped to his skivvies and in the bed before he totally lost consciousness. Ianto was uncharacteristically disheveled himself, tie ajar and hair mussed. It had been a wild night.

Ianto wasn't sleepy and no one expected them to be at the morning ops meeting. Plus, Jack wouldn't sleep long – his body didn't need it like others. Ianto reckoned that he maybe, finally had a few hours alone and he needed to reflect.

He took a ginger ale from the mini bar then retrieved his leather bound diary from the back of the bottom dresser, between Jack's shirts, a place he'd never look. Ianto had tried to switch to a laptop or tablet, particularly after he lost all his other books in the Hub's explosion. But, typing always tempted him to be more critical and he found he edited his thoughts more. He thought first to sit at the corner desk but then he heard Jack shift in the sheets.

"Ianto," Jack slurred, "it's cold in here."

Ianto smiled and brought his things to the bed. He leaned over, pulled and tucked the comforter more snuggly around Jack before kissing him on the head and got that winning smile as a reward. He turned off the bedside lamp, attached a small light to the diary and quietly settled gently in the bed. After adjusting the pillow, he leaned back and began to write.

_Evita is the Madonna and whore of Tel Aviv's gay scene. I should feel ashamed about what I did tonight – mum and dad would be horrified but they're both dead; my sister would be shocked but she's not getting here until the wedding on Saturday and need never know; and my vicar, well, he'd probably would have taken notes. Regardless, there is nothing more gratifying than the moans of a man gladly getting plowed in the bum – when they start sounding like a cow with a sore throat; you know you're hitting the right spot._

_Sarah and I arrived at 7pm and worked with "Mario" on the last touches on for the lavish stag party for 100 of Jack's closest friends, none of whom I knew – at least I don't think I did. The night started at 8pm with a buffet of the succulent, Middle Eastern fare. A 1940s band was led by a singing quartet of drag queens that would have made the Andrew sisters proud. At 9pm, everything transformed to a theater – a huge screen draping a back wall, rebroadcasting that week's episode of Eurovision – American Idol's international grandmother. Almost immediately, the club filled with patrons who mingled easily with the original party guests – everyone, especially the fag hags, swooned when the very popular John Barrowman came on to sing _Can You Feel the Love Tonight?_. An hour later, the screen disappeared and the club shifted like a horny secretary on a Friday night from a quaint bar to a dirty dancing disco. Now causal glances and subtle gestures translated into quick visits to the bathroom with a locale twink, a trip to the club dungeon for proper punishment, or, if one was lucky, an invitation to the orgy in one of the three upstairs VIP rooms. _

_Of course not being much of a dancer and after allowing Jack to introduce me to the first forty people, I excused myself to spend much of the evening in the adjoining café, enjoying Turkish coffee with lusciously rich foam that tasted like the curve of a woman's shoulder. The fair haired, German barista probably had more to do with it than the particular coffee blend – she was likely a dyke but smart enough to know a good tipper when she served one. Maybe she was flattered too?_

_I was contently chatting her up when Captain John Hart dropped himself in the stool next to mine. I wasn't so much surprised to see him as I was peeved by the interruption. He opened with his always slyly cheery and slickly charming manner, "Hiding, eye candy? Not a good start to a marriage." He ordered an espresso by flashing a large bill accented by a "come hither" wink at the barista. "Ah but this isn't your kind of scene anyway – you're more of a Kindle with a shot of Chopin sort of guy, eh?" He took a light slip from his cup, savoring the heat while promoting his air of superiority._

"_What do you want, John?"_

"_I just want to get to know the guy who is taking my place."_

"_Jack has been married numerous times."_

"_Not like this," John said, "You're different, eye candy, definitely special." He took another sip, "I'm completely, utterly jealous."_

"_Really?" I tried to act nonchalantly._

"_Yes, Jack has been married before but not like this," he said incredulously. He acted as if I should know this already, "You're not attracted to Jack because Jack is special. You think Jack is special because he is Jack. I think you humans call it, _unconditional love_?" _

"_You don't feel that, I suppose?" _

_He rolled his eyes, "Come now, eye candy. I'm nothing if not a selfish prick and never will be anything else. I love Jack but only for the celebrity, the honor of being on his arm." He downed the last of his cup and his voice lowered and his face became a washed in shame, "Maybe if I was more like you, I could have kept him forever."_

"_I won't have him forever. He'll leave . . . I'll die."_

_He gave me a strange look, let out a loud chuckle and was about to say more but Aliyah interrupted, "John Hart, don't you have a bank to rob, nukes to steal, or a kidnapping to arrange?"_

_John snarled at her like an angry cat, "Ah Aliyah, my Hebrew Goddess, didn't you hear? I'm cured! I'm living virtually like Tryrayian monk . . . or I am a monk by injection? It all gets so complicated."_

_His charms had never worked on Aliyah and Sarah thought less of him than she did of Jack. John knew this and quickly slivered off back to the noisy dance floor. Aliyah's usual welcoming smile returned, "Ianto, you probably want to see about Jack."_

"_Gin?"_

"_Yep, I last saw him heading toward the bathroom on the other side of the dance floor."_

"_Right." One could say vampires are allergic to garlic while my immortal had a horrible reaction to gin – even the smallest amount would make him throw up for hours. And it's hell to get out of his clothes._

_Getting across the dance floor wasn't easy. Hot, sweaty bodies grinding as in foreplay was both distracting and obstructive. I arrived at the bathroom, interrupting several people sharing a straw over multiple straight lines of powder on the sink. No Jack. The short, blottered red-head said he saw Jack being encouraged to join the party in the _basement_. I didn't take this to mean anything until I got there and was face to face "Tom"- 6'3", 275 lbs., Statue of David in chaps. _

_I'm not easily shocked and certainly no expert but this man's phallus was simply brilliant – glistening taut skin drenched in K-Y covering stiff muscle and large, throbbing veins. And I would have had a better look at it if it wasn't moving in and out of Jack's ass._

_I should have given Jack a right pasting but I was too shocked at my mixed reaction to the infidelity. The walls in the room were painted in industrial gray, with nondescript, dull yellow tented spotlights pointed to the different stations to allow everyone a clear view of the night's attractions. Techno beats from the dance floor echoed in the distance but I doubt these participants were paying much attention. I recognized Dengue Fever's _Sleepwalking through the Mekong_._

**Stakes are high and gettin' higher**

**I'm flat on my face and you call me liar**

**I'm watching you, you're watching me**

**You're watching every move that I can see**

_The room was stacked with couples and threesomes in various torture devices groaning and reminding one another of just how _bad_ they were. Most were in leather of some kind, fitted stainless steel cock rings, with hard gym bodies studded with tattoos and piercings. I was first fascinated then aroused. I felt emboldened and wondered what it would be like to have control like that over another human being – when and how much they came, known as erotic sexual denial. The constraining contraptions - chains, leather bindings, and cages – and pain arousing tools – whips, paddles, and electrosex toys – were like the contrivances of an illusionist. I found myself wondering if I could pull off such an elaborate performance._

_Then my thoughts returned to Jack, suspended completely naked in a leather sling, with legs stretched so much farther apart than the stirrups in a gynecologist's office. Tom (it was the name tattooed to his left and right forearms, likely so he could remember it in a pinch) was intensely fucking Jack's ass while tugging at the clips attached to his nipples. Jack's dick stood assiduously, showing appreciation for his prostate's eager massage. His head was to one side, groaning slightly while mumbling something about having to get back to the party. He didn't know I was there, which prompted my anger to return. _

**All you want to hear is the audience applause**

**You can't get on stage for a contract clause**

**And the road ahead seems a little rough**

**If you want to know my feelings**

**I say that's tough, that's tough**

"_Excuse me," I said to Tom, "but that's my fiancé you're strenuously fucking." I stood a little straighter hoping this would make up for the difference in our fitness levels. "And I would like a go at him before you stretch his hole out, if I may."_

_Surprising, the voice I got in response was that of a British national, "Oh, terribly sorry old chap." He immediately pulled out of Jack's ass, making a loud pop sound. "No harm intended, I assure you." He looked back at a disoriented and disappointed Jack. "Might I say I hope you realize just how lucky you are, "he said, "he is one tasty morsel!"_

"_Yes," I said while helping Jack from the device, "he _is_ lucky."_

_I grabbed his clothes from off of a nearby unoccupied steel suspension bar and got him in his pants and shoes. I would have dressed him there but he was unstable and thought it best to get him somewhere he could sit down. I put his arm around my shoulder and did a combination of dragging and guiding him up the narrow stairway to the main floor. All the while, he continued mumbling, now something about how much he loved me but figured he should have the last time of fun before an eternity of marital bliss. Before reaching the main floor, we passed a heretofore unknown set of rooms, one of which was just being vacated by a couple, one flush faced and the other still licking the cum from around his mouth. While the door was closing, I got a peek into the darkened room. What I saw gave my dick ideas._


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter Six_

_It was a private fetish room – the post AIDS kind. The walls were covered in thick black cloth and studded by sound buffers. Dim light from flat panels cast enough shadows to forge handsome on the homeliest of men. Next to the various length of chain, suspension devices, and other forms of restriction was a dispenser of Clorox wipes with a label encouraging "safe, clean, germ free fun". Dildos, vibrator casings, and anal probes of all shapes, sizes, and configurations were individually wrapped and stored on a shelf next to two bins, one for the wrapping and used condoms while the other for the used devices. Who knew gay men found a way to make causal sex hygienic?_

_Unlike the public dungeon areas, this had its own music. Nice but unusual tunes for a sexual encounter – for example, Sia's _Breathe Me_ – _

**Help, I have done it again **

**I have been here many times before **

**Hurt myself again today**

**And, the worst part is there's no-one else to blame **

**Be my friend **

**Hold me, wrap me up **

**Unfold me **

**I am small **

**I'm needy **

**Warm me up **

**And breathe me**

_Admittedly, the excellent, precise arrangement of the room was a significant turn on for me but I hadn't completely forgotten that I just found Jack fucking another man. I was thinking, "What was this wedding all about anyway? If this was just another Torchwood ruse for the sake of a mission, I'd better warn off my sister at least." I was really going to regret returning that coffee serving set I overheard Gwen and Rhys considering as a wedding gift. _

"_Ianto." Jack was fully awake. "Ianto, where are you?"_

"Hinneni." _I responded in Hebrew._

"_What?"_

"Hinneni_," I said in an exasperated tone, "It was Abraham's response to God when he was called." I walked over to Jack, who was sitting upright now in what could pass as a chair. I stood over him like a child waiting for his punishment, fully aware of its unfairness, "Abraham said 'I am here. I am here', meaning I am present; whatever you wish of me, I will do."_

"_I'm not God," now it was his turn to be exasperated, "and you're not my servant."_

"_True, most servants aren't paid as well as I am." I started to turn and depart after coming to the conclusion that asking for anything human such as consideration of my feelings was like finding a candid politician. _

_But he reached out to me," I'm kinda an asshole, eh?"_

_Lame was the first word that came to mind, "I hope that wasn't all you got out of your sessions with Freud."_

"_Anna or her father?" If I didn't know better and was in a better mood, I would have sworn he was being honest._

_Instead, my patience thinned further and I turned my back on him again, "Brilliant, he's got jokes."_

"_Damn it man, what do you want from me?" He was standing now . . . . asking loaded questions . . ._

_. . . where would I begin? Fidelity? What is this thing on Saturday all about? How about 'do you love me like I love you?' I settled on, "What's John talking about 'keeping you forever'."_

_For the briefest of moments, I think Jack Harkness was genuinely shocked and frightened at the same time but the straight face returned quickly, "Ignore him."_

"_Okay," I said with resignation. Verbal battles with Jack were always exhausting. I gathered the rest of his clothes and was starting to continue redressing him, figuring changing the subject was the best course of action for both of us._

"_Fuck!" Now it was his turn to sigh, "I guess the cat's out the bag now and I might as well give you your wedding gift now." He took the shirt out of my hand and tossed it on the floor, then took my hand and led me to a nearby bench. He kept a hold of my hand while he confessed, nervously alternating interlocking and unlocking our fingers. "Do you remember when we confronted the 456 initially?"_

"_Yeah, they thought to poison us to bribe humanity's cooperation." I tried to search his face but he kept his eyes focused on our fingers. Whatever he was going to confess made him feel bad in way I hadn't seen since Tosh and Owen died. "You just passed out, like usual. U.N.I.T. agents gave me an experimental antidote."_

"_That's not quite what happened," he said then he corrected himself, apparently deciding to become completely clean. "U.N.I.T. was nowhere near." He swallowed hard then continued, "I long ago learned that the anomaly that gave me mortality did so by somehow changing the RNA structure in my blood. It is my blood that contains the regenerative qualities." He looked at me, those gorgeous blue eyes pleading, "I gave you some of my blood."_

"_What?"_

"_I couldn't lose you . . . not you."_

_I thought for a moment, "Then I did die. I remember feeling like I was dying."_

"_Ianto you gotta understand, I was desperate. I would have done anything!" he was sobbing, just like that day. It was the last thing I remembered before passing out . . . I told him I loved him and begged him not to forget me._

"_I don't understand? How did you give me a blood transfusion before such a fast acting poison could . . . ?"_

_He looked away from me, pained even by saying it, "I tore a hole in my wrist with my teeth and drained as much as I could into your mouth."_

_The pain must have been horrid. I tried to take it all in, for the story sounded fantastic and then it dawned on me, "Does this mean I'm immortal now too?"_

"_I don't know. It could be," he said, "The Doctor says it isn't an exact science – what happened to me is extremely rare and with the Time Agency and the Time Lords of Gallifrey gone, there's no one to investigate." He lifted my hand and kissed it, "But, I'd like to think so."_

_As the idea that I would spend the rest of a very long life with Jack Harkness washed over me, I admit a burden lifted and I felt freer, bolder than I ever before._

_Then, Jack got on his knee and made me a proper offer, "Ianto Jones, I love you. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?"_

"_No more fucking strange men in basements without me," I declared._


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Jack shifted in his sleep, mumbling how Ianto needed to bring him his greycoat. Ianto looked over at him and when he was certain that Jack was returning to slumber, he returned to writing:

_Although I was tempted by the sex devices nicely displayed throughout the private room, I reckoned it really wasn't me. A comfy bed with a nice herbal tea on the nightstand is more my speed. But, . . . how often do you get to be this naughty? _

_Jack must have noticed my conflict and decided for us, "Help me get the rest of my clothes on." He stood up. "I just have to say some good byes to a few people and we can head back to the Institute." I helped him adjust his suspenders and he added slyly, "Then we can practice the honeymoon." I blushed gleefully._

_He grabbed my hand, whirled me back upstairs past the dance floor crowd and toward the guest tables. Gwen and Rhys were still there, Gwen sipping a ginger ale while Rhys was animatedly chatted with some off-world visitor. From what I could hear, as Shakira's new song, "Rabid", boomed from the dance floor, Rhys was eagerly sharing cultural knowledge with a Tarlenian, who looked human except for the fluffy, squirrel like tail pendulate as if enjoying Rhys' prognostications more than she should. It was likely a treat for Rhys as most of the aliens he has encountered through Torchwood have been killed before he could get to know them. Gwen did not seem to mind. She was staring absent-mindedly into space when I pulled up a stool, as I had already lost Jack at the next table amongst renewals with another set of old acquaintances._

"_Who doesn't he know?" Gwen said pointing at Jack. I looked over my shoulder and nodded. But when I turned back, she must have noticed the strange look on my face, "What's wrong? You don't look like a man about to get married."_

"_Jack made me immortal."_

"_What?"_

_A shirtless, buff waiter in a loin cloth got our drink orders, "Remember when the 456 poisoned us?" She nodded eagerly, "I did die but Jack saved me. He gave me his blood – he's immortality has something to do with his blood. I can't say I understand it except when I say the part about 'till death do us part', it will have a new meaning." _

"_But I thought that was what you wanted," she asked, "that you were always worried Jack would leave once you got old or he got bored."_

_I didn't quite know how to answer her. She was right but, like all answered prayers, this one is likely to come at some price yet to be determined. "Right, well," I shrugged, "you don't seem shocked."_

"_Really, Ianto. I've been in Torchwood so long and seen so much, only normal surprises me anymore!" Yet, she must of noted the confusion and anxiety hovering around me such that she reached over and gave me a reassuring pat on the arm. "Talk to Aliyah. I'm sure she will explain everything more clearly to you." She gave me one of her bright smiles, "Anyway, you and Jack love one another and that makes all the difference, eh?"_

_I nodded and that's when I noticed the wristband on her arm, one similar to Jack's. "Where did you get that?"_

_Gwen was a bit sheepish now, like I had caught her in a secret, and withdrew her hand from me. "Ah, Aliyah is having me monitor the rift activity." As she did this, the device began to vibrate, "Shit!" She flipped open the latch to reveal an illuminated panel about the size of a mobile's. "Shit!"_

"_What?" _

_Gwen frowned, "It appears Aliyah's intel was correct." She removed the device and turned it toward me, "Our friends, Townsend, Stratton, and Johnson, have just come through the rift."_

"_Really?" I pulled out my smart phone out of my pocket, Googled each one, then said, "Interesting." I handed her my mobile, "because according to the Huffington Post, Townsend is at a White House party with the U.S. Secretary of State; Stratton was hospitalize yesterday for an emergency appendectomy; and Johnson is at the rehearsal dinner for the wedding of his youngster daughter."_

_She got that glimmering look in her eyes – you could feel the excitement bubbling up in her. It keeps her tied to Torchwood, and Jack. She started to get up, "We need to check this out."_

"_No," I said looking down at her belly. She quickly came to her senses but pouted at me nevertheless. _

_At that moment, Sarah and Aliyah approached our table. "You saw the reading?" Aliyah asked. We both nodded._

"_I'll go," I said._

"_No you won't," Aliyah directed. "You're needed here to complete the charade. It wouldn't do for one of the grooms to leave his partner's bachelor party."_

"_I could start a scene, an argument with Jack and storm out." Gwen was agreeing, likely in an attempt to get some vicarious thrill herself._

_But Aliyah shook her head, "That won't do." She smiled at me though, "Sweetie, you may be head over heels in love with a man but being a nilly queen is way too out of character. It will blow your cover." She was right._

"_Then what?" asked Gwen._

"_I'm sending Rhys."_

_The sound of his name pulled him out of his animated monologue and away from the now disappointed, alien admirer. It seems to be the day for pouting. "What's you say now?"_

_Aliyah motioned him over to Sarah, who removed her own, slightly larger, wrist device from underneath her sleeve. "I've got a mini-mission for you."_

_He nearly knocked over the Tarlenian, whose tail dropped like a rocks in a California earthquake. "Well, it is about time someone trusted me in this business!" Sarah took him aside, to provide instructions. Within moments, Rhys said, "Right! Got it! You can count on me, ah, ma'am?" He offered a stunted, self-conscious salute which brought a slight smile from the usually stoic Sarah. He returned to Gwen, "Don't worry luv. All's I have to do is keep watch, verify where these chaps go. It won't take but a second. I'll have that driver Aliyah had pick up from the airport with me." He kissed her reassuringly on the forehead, "Besides, you can't have all the fun all the time now, eh?" He patted her belly in a manner that would have gotten the rest of us shot. Gwen just smiled weakly._

"_Be careful, Rhys!" she called out, worry mixed with envy in her voice, to his back as he eagerly left the club. "Being a widow just won't due."_

Jack awoke fully. His voice low, grizzly from sleep, startled Ianto, "You should be asleep." Jack rubbed his eyes then shifted to his side, propped his head in the crook of his arm. With his free hand, he stroked Ianto's upper thigh. "Do you need some help getting to sleep," he tempted.

"No," said the easily redirected lover, who snapped his diary closed, pen still within it. Ianto put the book on the nearby light stand and slipped down into the bed, meeting at Jack's smiling face. They kissed, tongues diving deeply, greedily, starting the wild abandon that typified their lovemaking. Ianto found himself recalling Jack in the swing and his naughty curiosities – he'd snidely stolen a souvenir but couldn't think of which pocket he'd left it. As for Jack, he just wanted that delicious look of hunger and jealousy to return to his lover's face again, just like one he had when catching Jack in the swing – his plan had worked just perfectly, he thought as he reached over to kiss Ianto's ear.

Aliyah had other plans. "Rise and shine, boys!" She and Sarah burst into the room, with Sarah eagerly rattling a mettle pan with a wooden spoon. "Time to get ready for a wedding."

The two men groaned but it was Jack who made the most noise, "Ah, it's barely 8am and my partner here hasn't had his beauty sleep yet!"

"Likely due to your interventions, no doubt," Aliyah laughed. She grabbed a chair. "Time to prepare for a wedding, gentleman. And a wedding on Jeshurun Prime is no easy nor slight matter. You must prepare." Sarah, figuring correctly that Jack was naked under the sheets, raised a large towel up in front his side of the bed.

"Ah, come on Sarah," he teased while standing on the bed, "don't ya wanna know what you've been missing all these years?"

"Sorry, I left the microscope in the lab."

Jack took the towel to wrap it tightly around his waist and stuck his tongue out at her. Ianto, who still but just barely, had his pants on, stood up. "What did Rhys learn last night?"

"He followed our three friends to the home of Angus Attabottom, aka Almood Muhamand," Aliyah answered in a serious tone.

Jack jumped off the bed and began prowling the closet for his clothes, "The Hamas leader?" he asked. "I thought he got assassinated by the Americans in some drone raid in Pakistan last year."

"Shot up pretty bad but not killed," said Aliyah. "We and the U.S. let him think we thought he was dead – soaked the press in it like Bin Laden rerun. This way we could track him better. Corpses are easier to follow – "

"Yes," interrupted Ianto. He went to the closet to help Jack, who had long ago lost the ability to independently dress himself, "I suppose because they move slowly." Jack shot him a quick appreciative peck when Ianto correctly adjusted the suspenders – even after all this time, Ianto still blushed when they kissed in front of others, even those who knew them. Jack liked that – he liked the simplicity, straightforwardness of their relationship but now he was worried how that things would change now that Ianto's life span mimicked his.

Sarah grabbed Ianto by the elbow and redirected him away from Jack. Aliyah explained, "Yes, but I need you two to keep cover, literally."

"Meaning?" asked Ianto.

Aliyah stood from her chair and walked over to Jack, "Wedding custom on my home world requires that the married couple be separated the days leading up to the ceremony."

"How long?" asked Ianto.

"Until the wedding," she glanced back at him, catching the slight panic in his voice. "You have to be prepared. It's not like weddings here on Earth. Hell, people have been known to pass out during the ceremony. Everything is very tightly controlled and you have to be trained or things can get painful."

"Sounds nice and dirty," Jack teasingly whispered in Sarah's ear, leaping back just before she slapped him.

"What about this Almood Muhamand?" asked Ianto.

"I've got my people cross checking some records. We should have something before you say 'I do'".

Jack, temporarily dropping his typically jovial act but still checking his look in the mirror, asked, "Aliyah, why is this wedding so damn important. You act like it is the center of some grand plan." Aliyah walked up close, staring harshly at Jack. She reached in the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a folded set of papers then gave them to Jack. He read them sanguinely and passed them back to her.

Before she could do so, noticing the pale look on Jack's face, Ianto yanked the sheets from her. He too became ashen. Aliyah said, "They feel, rightly or wrongly, Jack is a serious threat to their plan."

"And they know how to kill him."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

"Rhys!" Gwen gleefully bounced into her husband's arms. "Are you alright?"

"Perfectly fine, luv!" He came into their suite in the institute about an hour after they brought Jack back from the party. "I've gotten quite good at this space spy stuff, ya know." He put down his jacket and gave his wife another kiss just for reassurance. "Nice mission too, eh? I got the rabbi and her people some good info, yes I did!"

"Really?" She smiled, glad that he was back but also pleased with his bravery and growing skills. Was he becoming the Jack she really need – an all around man, lover, and protector who was also a lot of fun? "What did you learn?"

"Ah, that's the magic of it. Those contacts? The ones that we used against the 456?" He was nearly breathless with excitement, nearly spilling the tea he was pouring, "Aliyah's got a pair that records through walls."

"What?"

"Yeah, you can see figures through walls and record what you hear. Brilliant, eh?"

"So what did you hear," she was quite on edge now.

"Oh," he sipped from his cup then sat with her at the small dining table, "couldn't understand a word. It was all in Arabic or something. Aliyah's folks are translating. But, did the future father of the most beautiful child yet to be born do well for his first solo mission for Torchwood?"

Gwen came around the table and sat on Rhys' lap. She gave him a sweet peck on the forehead, "You'll always be our dashing hero!" Rhys grinned and patted Gwen's belly.

"Speaking of, what's up with our grooms to be?"

Gwen popped up and returned to her chair. She knew she should have been happier, and she was genuinely happy for Ianto, but he couldn't be marrying someone else – someone other than Jack? "I think Ianto is taking it seriously."

Rhys was more certain about things, "Ianto is the only one who will take Jack exactly as he is and love him for it." He took another sip of tea, "Jack knows this and if he has learned anything in 150 years, it's the importance of someone having your back."

"I suppose," she replied, disappointment seeping through like a leaky faucet. As they both moved to the love seat to cuddle, she told him about Ianto's new found immortality. "I mean, what does this mean for them? Ianto would have been content to be in Jack's shadow, sniffing his greycoat every night. Now he's convinced there can be so much more. But, immortality really hasn't changed the equation. Jack's never been with someone _forever_!"

Luckily, Rhys only appreciated half of what made up Gwen's reservation, "My lovely worry-wart!" He hugged her tighter, "Darling, they both are big boys and Aliyah seems to have it handled. You don't need to manage this one."

Gwen knew he was right but no matter how much she turned the knob, the _drip, drip, drip_ continued.

Sarah brought Jack into the Institute's situation room to hear the information brought back by Rhys while Aliyah helped Ianto prepare and the wedding and the trip, which appears to be much more involved than anyone other than the respected rebbe knew or understood.

"For a novice, Rhys did a nice job," Sarah said as she pressed some keys on computer. "We have some nice, clear intel." A holographic image appeared showing the three Americans, the Hamas leader, and two large figures in the background, likely Muhmood's bodyguards. They were standing in a storage area in back of a local electronics store. It appeared the meeting had already started. Hovering over each figure in the 3D image, was the person's name with the translation at the bottom:

_Stratton: Everything is nearly ready?_

_Muhmood: I need more time to get the equipment here. Once that is arranged, the troop transport from Termeym should move smoothly and quickly._

_Johnson: We are under a strict timetable. Nothing can interfere with it. Everything is aligned, following Scripture. Nothing can be left to question – that crap will come from the unbelievers and we don't want them to have enough time to garner any momentum._

_Muhmood (clearly irritated): Need I remind you Mr. Johnson that we have been keeping the Holy Land safe for the Messiah for centuries and defeated your Christian forces on numerous occasions! _

_Townsend: Enough gentlemen (he said stepping between the two who seemed to be about to come to blows) Is this not important to ALL of us? The success of this mission will bring true love and finally peace to this sin-ridden planet, in the name of God._

_Muhmood (who moved back): Allah_

_Townsend: Yes, Allah._

_Muhmood: What about Harkness?_

_Stratton: The whore is taking up that Jewess' time with some drag queen event on her planet. The Torchwood people will be so taken up with that abomination that we will be able to get troops in and this planet subdued before they get their pants down._

_Townsend: I thought we were going to kill him._

_Muhmood: That is still an option . . . (unintelligible). I could have a man in place at a moment's notice._

_Johnson: Let's hold off from that – it will draw The Doctor's attention. And right now he is busy rescuing that Amy Pond girl. Him being out of commission is just as important as keeping Torchwood occupied._

_Muhmood: The equipment will arrive tomorrow. Then, I'm going back to Alejnh to coordinate the invasion._

_Townsend: I will go with you – to oversee things._

_Stratton (obviously intervening again to stop an argument): No, our doubles are going to (unintelligible) soon. We have to be back with our families otherwise someone or something will draw suspicion. (He turns and looks sternly at Muhmood) We should get frequent updates through our usual channels, right?_

_Muhmood (bowing his head slightly): Of course. (The American cartel left the room and the bodyguards appeared fully from the shadows and their master whispered violently to them. Then the image disappeared.)_

"What language was that?" asked Jack.

"Aramaic."

"Even the whispering?"

"No, we are working on that part." Sarah had an exchange with one of the assistants. "It turns out it is the language spoken on Termeym." The assistant handed Sarah a piece of paper, which Sarah read. She looked up at Jack then handed the note to him.

He read aloud a translation of Muhmood's words to his companion's, "Christian dogs, they're worse than the Jews. The Messiah will speak Arabic then they all will know the true revelation."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

_Corn rows have companion feel _

_This rocky road and this steering wheel _

_Who do you call to ease your pain _

_I hope for you to get through this rain _

_Windows are rolled down _

_Moon is hanging low _

_Windows are rolled down _

_Think it's time for me to go_

"Windows Are Rolled Down" by Amos Lee

"The Pegasus Three!" exclaimed Jack. "I thought they'd mothballed you ol' girl," he said while patting the side of the space ship. "Damn Aliyah, how did you find her?"

Aliyah was back in her army gear, touring the orbiting flight hanger like Patton overseeing a deploying army. "We've done some upgrades. I think you'll like how she flies even better now."

"Everyone already aboard?"

"Yes, and no you can't see Ianto. You know the rules."

Pouting in a more serious manner than Aliyah anticipated, "Why are you insisting on these arcane formalities?" He walked ahead of her, hoping she didn't see just how disappointed he was.

Aliyah just sighed. "We arranged for his sister and husband to come aboard. Gwen's parents are here also."

"Retcon?"

"They'll sleep until we arrive. The planet and its people look a lot like what's seen in Israel. They won't know the difference once we arrive and they've awakened."

"Mmm," Jack was nonplussed. He climbed into the cockpit and found his co-pilot was Sarah.

"She's going to help you stay focused on flying," grinned Aliyah. She leaned into the opening, "I'll see ya'll there!" She started to close the hatch.

"Wait! How are you getting there?"

Aliyah had already turned her back and started walking away. She lifted her left arm and her loose shirt sleeve fell down to reveal her large votex manipulator. She tapped it then waved back at him as her molecules disappeared.

"Show off," mumbled Jack. Settling in his seat, he looked up and found his captain's hat attached to a random hook. "At least she left me that!, he thought. He then scanned around the dashboard until he found an opening to the cold compartment he was looking for. After flipping two switches, a small door opened just below the steering column. A grin grew across his face as he removed the canister and sniffing glass then poured himself a perfect dry vodka martini. "Ah, just where I left it," he said, taking a satisfying sip. "Nice to know that time doesn't change all things."

Sarah rolled her eyes.

_More laughter than a kindergarten out to play _

_One Sunday morning song that says it all _

_More summer than a California beach can hold _

_My love follows you where you go _

_Future like a promise - and you're a city of Gold _

_Stubborn in your bones and Jesus in your soul _

_Seeing you stand there - staring at the unknown _

_I won't pretend that it's not killing me  
>Watching you walk away slow<em>

- "My Love Follows You Where You Go" – Alison Krauss

Ianto was sitting next to Gwen and Rhys in the large, luxurious cabin far from where he knew Jack was flying the plane. They breached Earth's atmosphere some time ago and Aliyah said it would take about three hours to get to Jeshurun Prime, same as a car ride from Cardiff to London. Gwen and Rhys eagerly watched the stars and the vastness of the universe fly by them while Ianto sat like the irritated middle child trying not to get car sick.

When Rhys pointed out a constellation, Ianto tried to also admire it from the window but the bile came back quickly, so he walked to another seat and pulled down the window shade. "At least the coffee is first rate," he mumbled to himself while he took a sip. He hadn't seen Jack in almost a week and wouldn't for yet another day, in accordance with custom. It had been the longest they had been separated in some time. As he put the coffee down, he noticed his diary peeking from one of his travel bags. He reached for his trusted friend:

_I watched Sarah escort Jack from our room at the Institute with a mixture of dread and anger – he didn't even bother to say good bye. Aliyah, who was standing behind me, put her hand on my shoulder, thinking that that would help. "Don't worry. Sarah will make sure he makes it to the alter."_

"_Yeah," I answered, in uncharacteristically harsh tone, obviously unconvinced._

"_Really?" She returned. "I guess tearing through one's own flesh isn't enough of a sign of fidelity for you, eh Ianto Jones!" She grabbed my shoulder much more firmly now, forcing me to face her. I didn't like that look on her face and hope never to see it again. "What's it gonna take, Ianto? What is Jack gotta do to prove his feelings? What sort of reassurance would it take for your insecurities to sliver back to the nasty recesses of your undersized ego?"_

_That was a low blow. "The immortality should be enough," I said like a naughty parishioner in a confessional. "He won't have to worry about me growing old, he won't tire of me, he won't . . ." I started realizing how ridiculous I sounded._

_But Aliyah wasn't going to let me get away with it, "Do you really think your former mortality was the cause of Jack's erratic affections? Gimme a break! I took you for brighter than that." She walked over the closet, removed some of Jacks clothes and imitated a drunken 19__th__ Century Chinese laundress. I guess this was her way of helping me pack. _

"_Damn it, Aliyah, I love him but I'm not certain he feels the same."_

_She didn't miss a beat, "No, that isn't the problem. You aren't unsure of him. You're uncertain of you." She folded something but I couldn't quite catch what it was, just that it was folded incorrectly. "Jack is erratic by nature – maybe it's his fundamental personality or maybe it is a reaction to being thrust into immortality without guidance, good training. I don't know. I met him after he joined the Time Agency". She grabbed something else, one of Jack's shirts I think, and also folded it improperly. "It doesn't matter. Immortality means knowing that there are multiple choices and compounding chances attached to each choice's permutation. It's enough to keep the sanest person slightly unhinged." I must of fully regained my barring when she tried to place the misshaped clothes in the suitcase – I felt like a Hasidic at a pig farm. _

"_I get it," I said as I firmly retrieved Jack's luggage and clothes from her, rescuing them and myself from hours of ironing. "So he's bipolar and I have to learn to live with it." Did I see a small smirk come across her face?_

"_Remember what I said to you a while back?"_

"_You're a rabbi," I sighed. "You tend to say a lot."_

"_Touché," she said. "About who's in control of this relationship?"_

"'_The submissive always controls the relationship', yes and I recall feeling offended."_

"_Then let me put it another way." She thought for a moment, "As a child, you watched reruns of 'Upstairs, Downstairs' with your father."_

"_How did you . . . ?" I keep forgetting about her telepathy._

"_And your favorite character was Hudson, the head butler."_

_I fell into an old memory - me and Dad by the telly on Sunday nights. It was the only time my mum would let me stay up late on a school night, long after my sister had to go to bed. It was the only time Dad and I really talked, really enjoyed each other's company. "Hudson was meticulous, precise - conscientious. He knew everything about _ Eaton Place – where everything was and where it should be . . . "_

"_. . . including the people . . ."_

"_He knew the needs, wants of every member of that house. He was . . ."_

"_. . . just like your dad?"_

_I paused to correct her, "Dad knew what you needed and made sure you had – the master tailor knew what would make you look smart, fashionable - it but he could've cared a twit about your wants," it came out more embittered than I would have liked._

_But just like a good psychoanalyst, Aliyah wasn't going to leave her patient wallowing in unproductive misery, "Hudson was able to help the family, both the one upstairs and the ones below, because he understood them – knew when to leave the tiny hint or make the timely suggestion. Hudson was so stealthy that his 'masters' always walked away thinking it was their idea – that they were in control all the time."_

_I stopped for a moment before zipping the properly repacked suitcase and smiled. "Hudson's cleverness was in the ability to empower others to help themselves." I finished closing the bag and looked at her, slightly pleading. "And how am I to do that with Jack? What does that have to do with us being together?"_

"_Darling, you already do it and that is why you're together!" she said as she handed me another suitcase before walking out the room and leaving me to my thoughts._

_For the rest of the week, she and I studied Torah (the Jewish Bible) and Talmud (a collection of ancient biblical interpretations) passages related to love, relationships, and wedding ceremonies. I love learning new things and the readings made me rethink things. It got me out of myself, helped me see a larger picture and be more realistic, rounded and accepting of things – about my sexuality, this marriage, and what it all meant in the larger universe. For example, Jeshurun Prime did not have the excessive prohibitions against homosexuality like Earth because the ancient world that spawned the early Israelites did not have such prejudices. These people also did not make distinctions such as "homosexual", "heterosexual", or "bisexual" – they found such designations frivolous. One was to find a partner who complimented you mind, body, and soul – gender was not a consideration. However, all couples were expected to marry and "multiply". It was taken for granted that although same sex couples could not bare children, they would adopt. Many were also encouraged to train in professions such as teaching that supported the young. Often, when a teen boy or girl discovered they had same sex attractions, they were sent to live in the home of a gay or lesbian couple to learn the unique relationship needs of such partnerships. "Everyone will ask you and Jack when you plan to adopt your first child," she said. "The polite response is, 'As soon as we can!'" _

_I also learned that citizens of Jeshurun Prime are very conservative about dress and everyone was expected to dress modestly, to the point of androgyny. "As you can imagine," she said during one of our study sessions, "this has led to many comical events as people would discover that the person they have been courting for months is different from what they'd imagined!" Jack and I's wedding attire would be even more nondescript (which bothered me somewhat as I had looked forward to applying my tailoring skills). However, I've taken copious notes on my iPad for the Torchwood archives. God, I love details. _

_As I read, talked and learned through this past week, I have accepted Aliyah's premise – I have been ruled by my insecurities. Aliyah calls me "the dominant top"- I have much more power in this relationship than I ever imagined let alone exercised. Even in bed, even if I'm "on the receiving end" of things, I usually take the lead and I kinda like that – I like that a lot, especially when he begs. John Hart knew this – that's why he sees this wedding as the final blow to any chance of he and Jack getting back together. As for everyone else (like Gwen), let them think Jack's in control – it fits their image of me and it makes Jack happy, thinking he is in charge. I like being the silent partner, the one who knows all the secrets and the hidden truths. _

_The last day was spent in reflective meditation. Aliyah had me sitting like a Buddhist monk in the garden courtyard of the Institute recalling how I got here, got into this relationship with Jack. This was the hardest part. Sitting cross-legged on damp stone, I ran the story through my head - from Lisa's death and the uncomfortable days with the team that followed through nearly dying, no actually dying at the hands of the 456, then awaking to see him lying next to me bleeding, half-unconscious with that gorgeous smile that always leaves me undone. After who knows how many hours listening to chirping birds and butterfly wings, my legs hurt and I could no longer tolerate the thought of how long it would take to get a crease back in these jogging pants. By the time Aliyah came to retrieve me, I was dripping in sweat and pissed as hell. "That bitch had better be going through this too! Jack Harkness better be on his knees too."_

_She gave me one of her classic side-long grins, "I have a feeling before this is all over, he will be."_

_If I lay my head down on you, would it be, would it be too late?_

_Cuz' you were my protection, from the rain inside_

_Made me feel loved like the old days, yeah_

_But I can't blame you, baby it's me that'd done wrong_

_Cuz' I broke the skies that shine above._

_But I can't live, oh without you, love you, and it's hard to breath _

_when you're not near_

_But I can't lie here beside you, besides you, _

_cuz' you steal my soul when you leave_

_Set me free baby, set me free baby._

- "Free" – Graffiti 6

Jack slurred, "I bet you think I'm drunk!"

Sarah considered blinking but decided her eyes had better things to do. She continued to pilot the space vessel.

"And even if I was, I could still fly this – done it a hundred times drunker than this." He took a large gulp from this, his fifth triple hypervodka martini. He leaned in the compartment, searching uselessly for another bottle. The empty one had fallen to the floor and was rolling around like a homeless man looking for a warm place to rest as the ship weaved through the galaxy at warp speeds.

It was Sarah's job this week was to keep Jack away from Ianto and she had had enough of it and him. He could stay drunk like no one she had ever known. His body's constant regeneration processed alcohol faster than a food processor sliced a carrot. Aliyah had said he would try to escape and see Ianto, if for nothing else than a quick fuck but this entire time, he made no such move. He did nothing but read, drink, and, occasionally, made a comment about her breasts. Sarah was sick of babysitting him and missed sleeping next to Aliyah. Although she felt sorry for Ianto, for what he got himself into with this useless piece of humanoid flesh, this wedding couldn't happen soon enough as far as she was concerned. "Maybe I should find that other bottle," she thought to herself, "that way he'll pass out soon enough and I'll get at least an hour of peace!"

"This is the longest we've been apart in sometime," Jack said, his voice surprisingly clear. He paused for so long, Sarah found herself paying attention. "I had a normal human life once . . . After the war, my parents and I settled on another planet. My dad got a job, not as good as his previous but we lived comfortably. Mom, . . . Mom eventually accepted that Gray was gone and had my sister but she never let me babysit." Jack stared beyond the sights outside the cockpit window, speaking as if describing a movie playing on a screen. "It didn't matter anyway, I was a teenager and too busy running with my pals to give the family much time anyway." He sucked down the last drops of drink from the bottle then continued, "But they soon started looking at careers, choosing mates, and getting married. I decided it was time I do right by my parents, find a girl, marry, give my parents grandkids." He tried to suck more from the vanquished bottle but got air as a reward for his efforts.

Sarah, in a momentary lapse of animosity, gave him the other bottle. Jack nodded back with authentic appreciation and she got a glimpse of what Ianto saw in him.

"Her name was Tantalyn and despite what you may think, I met her at college." He put the bottle down, unopened and went back to gazing into space. "She was a tiny, wisp of a woman with rich, red hair that fell like clouds down her back. Her face was chalk full of freckles and when she laughed, they danced across her face like those stars we're breezing by now. And damn, I loved that laugh – I'd do and did everything I could to keep that laughter going." He sighed heavily, "You wouldn't believe it, Sarah, but that woman loved me. She loved me just like I was. Now I didn't have as many blemishes on my soul and memory that I do now but I'd done my fair share of foolishness."

She wondered if this girl was like Gwen . . .

He considered the bottle again. Sarah pressed some buttons to put the ship on autopilot. She reached overhead to another secret compartment and retrieved two shot glasses. She grabbed the bottle then poured them both a double shot. With the slightest of smiles, she handed him his glass.

Hardly Kissinger's shuttle diplomacy but a start - with a nod, he accepted the drink but instead of downing it whole, he took a slip, like a sommelier testing a new wine. He sat back in his pilot's seat, letting the good memory wash back over him, "We would sit for hours in the gardens outside my dorm, talking about the future, the things we wanted to do. I was going into engineering and she wanted to be a nurse – she wanted to save lives and I wanted to make a name for myself and build her a beautiful home. She listened to the crazy dreams of a young man who was in love with life and believed he could do anything. I even told her about Grant - she held me and listened to pleas for forgiveness from a God I had long ago abandoned . . . felt abandoned me. This woman loved me not for what I was or even I could be but who I was at that moment – I hadn't had that from any girl before." He took a slight sip and absent-mindedly rolled the glass in his hand, "I took her home one break during my senior year to meet my parents – they loved her, especially my Mom, which meant a lot to me. I bought a ring and was going to ask her marry me during the school's spring festival."

He fell silent. "You don't happen to be boring me," Sarah finally said.

"I fucked up, like I always did back then," he sank gulp down his throat. "I'd been out drinking with my buddies the night before and showed up for a critical final hung-over. A friend of mine felt sorry for me and let me cheat off his test. We both got caught. In those days the military government was quite strict about such things and we were both up for expulsion. This was a time when I used this charm for good – I convinced them that my friend knew nothing about it and took full responsibility. Freshman year, I had a brief relationship with the headmaster, so I got off light – I was sent to work at the Time Agency – 5 years. I never saw Tantalyn again."

Aliyah had never told Sarah how Jack had gotten to the Time Agency. The sentence seemed harsh and she found herself with a feeling she normally wouldn't associate with Jack Harkness – pity. "What happened to her?"

Jack put the glass in his compartment and shut the door. His voice sounded sober, like an alcoholic exiting a 30 day inpatient treatment program, "I lost the time line for that life a long time ago." He lifted his captain's hat and pulled it down covering his eyes. He raised the collar of his greycoat and hunkered inside it like a cat hiding in a bed comforter. "We should be at the planet in an hour or so. I'm going to get some rest – I'm sure you can fly it from here, eh?"

Sarah measured him for a moment then, accepting that this was the first nonworking related serious conversation they had ever had. She finished her drink and put everything away. She reset the controls and returned to manual flight.

The genuineness of his next words stunned her, "Ianto is the first person, the first person since my parents, since Tantalyn, . . . the first person to love me for me – just as I am. Others have cared for me . . . some thought they loved me while others just wanted to fuck. Yet others were just fascinated and when things got complicated, when they aged and I didn't, they couldn't run or push me out fast enough. Women, men, aliens – it didn't matter, they just didn't get it. They wouldn't understand, I didn't care about grey hair, wrinkles, or lost minds. I'd take what 'forever' their lives would offer."

"Ianto's afraid you'll leave him."

"I know," Jack replied, "and I am praying to Aliyah's God that she got that shit out of him by the time we're standing under that wedding canopy! Anyways," he added pushing his hat aside as he leaned toward her with a devilish grin, "how could I get rid of him? He keeps my clothes spot on, works magic with a coffee bean, and gives the best blow job in two galaxies!"

Sarah groaned, thinking she could've lived her whole life without that image.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Jeshurun Prime had one habitable continent, about the size of Australia; otherwise it was ocean speckled by small deserted islands which were used by the inhabitants for national festivals and rented by the well-off for private parties or the occasional business convention. Its capital city, New Jerusalem, was buffeted by ocean on one side and had a year round climate like summers in San Francisco or Palermo. The city's layout was similar to what one would find in most modern Earth urban areas – a large glitzy city surrounded by small suburbs connected to corporate centers and industrial plants with farm land connecting the regions. However, getting off their transport, new off-world arrivals would be surprised by the cleanness of the air, which was not polluted by fossil fuels, coal mining, or billions of "traces" of toxic admissions. Instead, areas are strewn with solar panels, hydro-electrical dams, and windmills. "I bet these people don't leave their lights and telly on all night," Gwen said in Rhys' direction, making him blush shamefully.

The airport was smaller than most the travelers were used to because it only handled intergalactic flights. The general populace and the commercial shipping exclusively used high speed rail (which operated at speeds up to 425mph/684kph) or hydropowered buses and trucks. Only government officials operated private cars and could only do so for official business. Jack, Sarah, and Aliyah left the ship first in such a government vehicle as they were to meet with the Minister of War who had an intelligence update. The others took a ten minute ride bus ride to the hotel.

Ianto's sister, Rhiannon, and her husband, Johnny, watched with gapping mouths at the scenario both in and outside the bus. Men and women dressed androgynously in long beige robes and head wraps like Bedouin men from the late 19th Century of the Ottoman Empire. The gender of some could be distinguished by a closely cropped beard or mustache but that number was few and far between. Johnny whispered to his wife probably louder than the situation suggested, "I don't remember everyone dressing like this on that Travel Channel show about the Holy Land."

Their children were similarly amazed. "Mommy, why are there two moons in the sky?" asked Rhiannon's daughter, Misha. Rhiannon gave her brother an I-know-something-is-funny-about-this-place look which made Ianto sigh.

Gwen leaned into his ear and said softly, "Don't worry. We brought plenty of retcon." She smiled weakly at him thinking that maybe he too wanted to stop lying to his family.

"Hopefully the hotel will be normal," he responded.

The hotel did distract by its luxury and endless amenities. The children's room was stocked full with the latest toys and video gaming options. Gwen and Rhys' room had all the comforts every pregnant couple would desire including a sunken foot massager in the bathtub and a private masseur available day or night. Ianto's room however, euphemistically called the "Preparation Suite", was more utilitarian. It was organized prior to the guest's arrival to contain the practical items needed to ready oneself for some significant event or activity. Since Jewish weddings were a long process, it was assumed that Ianto needed rest after the flight and so soft, cotton pajamas were laid across the king size bed next to the remote control for a 52" flat screen television. The quilt was turned down revealing properly fluffed pillows atop of creamy chocolate colored crisp sheets. Ianto walked across the plush, brown carpet to the Mahoney closet doors to begin organizing his items. Inside was a milk white silk robe, similar in style to the ones worn by the general population. The red large hat and shoe boxes on the floor underneath had a turban and sandals that matched the color of the robe. He touched all the items and suddenly felt his clothes didn't belong in their presence and so, did not unpack his wardrobe, opting instead to put his suitcases on the other end of the closet.

Ianto stood, considering whether he needed to retrieve his grooming bag and Jack's clothes, when he heard giggling. He turned around quickly, pulling his revolver from its holster. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed when he realized that behind him were three cute young women – well he was certain at least the two of them with unwrapped waist long hair were women while the one with shoulder length hair was a mystery. "What's this?" he said, lowering his gun slightly.

"You are Mr. Jones?" asked one of them – she had wavy black hair with green eyes. She would have passed as Ethiopian on Earth and for a moment she reminded him of Lisa. He was briefly embarrassed of being aroused by such a memory on the day before his wedding.

"Who are you three?" he asked as a way to distract himself. Even as his gun went down, Ianto's dick went up.

The brunette with the olive colored skin and brown eyes stepped forward, "We are your wedding gift." She stepped in front of the Black girl to stand devilishly close. She took the gun from his hand, her soft skin and sandalwood perfume made him shiver slightly. She giggled again, noticing how he was responding to her, "I'm Arela." She moved to Ianto's right side and motioned her partner to come to his left, "This is Hadasah."

As Arela wrapped her arms around him, she gently grasped his ass, as did Hadasah on the other side. "We are here to help you prepare for the wedding, both through the night, into the morning prayers, and your cleansing immediately before the ceremony," said Hadasah. Both ladies had accents with the sing-song quality he always liked.

"Cleansing?" he was beginning to lose his composer. "I've been showering and dressing myself for quite some time," he said while trying to breathe steady. "Did Aliyah send you?" This only served to make the ladies giggle and caress him more.

The third "gift" was more serious than the others, "We are sent by Mr. Harkness but have years of experience and training in the art of preparing partners for the wedding." It was at this point that Ianto recognized the fact that this one was male. His accent however was American and he had blue eyes with blonde hair. It was just like Jack to send an incomplete substitute of himself.

"So, 'gift', do you have a name?" By this time, he was standing in front, holding Ianto's swollen dick firmly through the trousers.

"I am Galron," he said. "And Mr. Harkness has a message for you." Galron leaned into Ianto, cupped his face firmly with his free hand while still holding Ianto's cock with the other. He began kissing Ianto, who initially refused to open his mouth or respond fully. But his cock betrayed him again and his hips began grinding against the man's hand. The ladies watched on with eager grins and quiet moans, which undid him completely. Ianto's mouth opened slightly and accepted the man's tongue. The sudden acquiescence startled the male gift. Galron pulled away for just a moment then looked into Ianto's aroused, half closed eyes as if startled by some revealed secret. Like regaining a connection to some secret mission, he pulled Ianto close to him again and placed his lips at Ianto's ear, "Mr. Harkness said to tell you, 'enjoy'".

After a fabulous bath and a foot massage, Gwen happily gave Rhys a mind numbing blowjob, which quickly sent him to sleep. Shortly thereafter, her mobile rang with Jack's voice on the other end, "I've sent a car for you. We've got more intel."

"Okay," she replied. "We just got in. I need a few minutes to get dressed. Is Ianto coming too?"

"No," he deftly avoided her first statement. "Finish up with Rhys and get over here."

She quickly dismissed her irritation at Jack's lack of interest because she was slowly coming to the conclusion that she had no right to it. Instead, she woke Rhys up and instructed him to fuck her madly. He happily complied.

Gwen arrived at the Ministry of War and Intergalactic Affairs an hour later. "My compliments to Rhys! Your glow is particularly strong this day," teased Jack. Gwen rolled her eyes and walked passed him into the meeting room similar to the one at Torchwood Tel Aviv.

General Ashtam was a middle-aged, balding, portly man with an intense continence that overpowered what would have been a kind disposition. He seemed to like Jack Harkness but offered much reverence to Aliyah. "The rift activity on the Homeworld is increasing, according to our people on Earth and the activity is spreading to the other portals."

"Activity at other portals?" inquired Gwen. "I was only aware of rifts in the UK and the empire's former colonies."

"That was true until the 1970s," answered Aliyah, "when the Daleks attempted another invasion of Earth. They set up artificial rifts in two U.S. cities, one in Moscow, and another just outside of Beijing." Sarah pressed a button and a clear, see through computer screen lifted offering an image of the Earth. Aliyah continued, "Since that time, other alien creatures have set up rifts in under developed countries, mostly in Africa. They figure that the region's instability would make it ideal for clandestine transports ." She took a sip of the tea given to her by Sarah. "However, these were unsuccessful for the very reason they choose those locations – appearance by anything that was not immediately recognized as human and part of their tribal affiliation brought immediate destruction, no time for questions or integration when riches in diamonds, gold, and precious minerals are concerned. Soon these sites were abandoned – until now."

Jack added, "Each one has seen increased activity but nothing coming through – like gates opening and closing for no reason."

"Are we the only ones monitoring things then?" asked Gwen.

"The Chinese dismiss it because nothing has ever come through their rift and they are too paranoid to have an organization more powerful than the central committee," said Jack. "The American's Torchwoods only share their secrets when it is to their benefit or when they can look the best. And the Russians are too busy raping what's left of their country and figure they are too vast to be worth the bother by another world."

"Brilliant, just us and the Israelis, eh?" Gwen pushed hair from her face and noted the flutter in her belly – a new sensation of motherhood which led her to wonder if the baby sensed the pending danger too. "Okay, now what?"

"We keep to our plan and continue to watch," said Ashtam, "It is likely that they will attack here first anyway."

"Why?"

Sarah walked over and handed Gwen the latest, translated intelligence report which clarified something of Stratton and company's plans. "They believe they can bring about the biblical revelation through designing and introducing the Messiah."

"How can he do that?" asked Gwen.

"That's what we want you to find out," answered Aliyah. "If they are going to strike, it is likely to start during the wedding, when they believe we are distracted."

"Rhys and I are going to miss the wedding?"

"You will stay here at the ministry with Sarah to monitor rift activity around both planets."

Gwen's was irritated, "And Rhys? I'm sure the enemy will be watching closely. Won't it look suspicious if I am not with him?"

Aliyah noted the hostility in Gwen's voice. "Yes, we have already detected three spies likely arriving for the wedding reception."

"So why don't we arrest and interrogate them?"

"In good time," Aliyah tried to reassure Gwen but knew she was failing badly. "We have people watching them. I'm hoping to track them to their handlers." Aliyah sat in a chair at a table while an attractive blonde with big tits bounced into the room like a confident runway model at a New York opening. "This is Leah," she said while punching some buttons on the flat keyboard. "She will escort Rhys to the wedding and reception."

"No, you've got to be bloody kidding . . . "

"I'm not," Aliyah's said.

"We captured another set of spies two weeks ago," interjected Ashtan. "One of the partners didn't respond to the 'typical' questioning techniques."

"You mean one of them died?"

"Considering the potential lethality of the situation," the Minister answered with some reserve, "my men may have been more 'enthusiastic' than what department policy instructs."

"Okay, it's isn't like I don't get the critical nature of the matter. But why me?"

Jack thought he could ease Gwen's irascibility, "I recommended you. You've got a nice touch with people and aliens alike – your approach makes a nice balance to my assertive nature." He gave a sly grin and leaned into her ear to whisper, "Anyway, we all know how hard it will be for you to give me up!"

Wrong move on Jack's part – Gwen's face turned red and she shouted – proving that Shakespeare was right, _The lady do protest too much_. "You really do think you're the center of the fucking universe, that it is all about you? Brilliant!"

He hadn't noticed that her attraction for him was more intensive, more profound than his to her. So Gwen's response shocked and confused Jack, leaving him uncharacteristically hushed.

"Please! This wedding is a diversion not a ruse," respond an exasperated Aliyah. "We've talked about this before, Gwen – a relationship with Jack would have been impossibly foolish for you. You made your decision and complaining about it now is nothing short of ridiculous. I saw pictures of your dance with Jack at your wedding – there is no reason for this ceremony to rub salt into a wound you've recreated."

Gwen snapped, her tone almost threatening, "Rhys is my husband. I don't want to lie to him, trick him."

Aliyah was nonplussed, "After all you did – the number of times you cheated on Rhys? Tell me, don't you think you owe him?" She snapped her fingers then pointed at Leah, whose face and body transformed instantly to look exactly like Gwen. "Besides, he will not realize it isn't you."

"Don't worry Ma'am," Leah said, "I will look after him – keep him safe."

Tears welled up in her eyes, as much from shame as anything else. "I'm sure you will," Gwen acquiesced.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

_I've heard people say that_

_Too much of anything is not good for you, baby_

_Oh no_

_But I don't know about that_

_There's many times that we've loved_

_We've shared love and made love_

_It doesn't seem to me like it's enough_

_There's just not enough of it_

Can't Get Enough of Your Love, Barry White

Ianto Jones woke up to find the two girls gone and John Hart snoring naked next to him in the mussed bed. "What the hell?" Ianto screamed and leaped from the bed but before he could get to his gun, he realized he too was naked. Then, the two girls, fully dressed, returned to the room, one pushing a cart of what was likely breakfast while the other carried a clear bag of male body products. The girls giggled, either because of his confused face, his "morning wood", or both.

"We were hoping to be back before you woke up," said Hadasah.

"What the hell is _he_ doing here!"

"Don't you remember us from last night?" Hadasah sounded dejected, like a child who fears she has disappointed her parents. "Captain Harkness said you would enjoy Galron especially."

"May be he had too much scotch,"Arela was more optimistic (or eager) and began caressing his chest hairs. Hadasah thought for a moment and decided her partner's approach was a better one. She put her grooming kit down and joined Arela, who was slowly running her hands across the length of his cock. Ianto started to forget what was previously upsetting him.

The latter was starting to kiss Ianto's nipples when Galron sat up and spoke in a urbane voice, "I was to do the relaxation massage."

Ianto's eyes opened fully. Seeing Galron made him initially wonder how he could be so mistaken, especially when he recalled the previous evening. He couldn't image John Hart couldn't be that generous in bed. But despite fabulous, robust sexual wedding gift, the lack of Jack's presence was starting to wear on Ianto. "You three are lovely however I believe serious prayer and meditation is what I need now." The two women stepped back then exchanged disappointed but knowing smirks – as if this too was part of the ritual but they had expected it to come later. Ianto looked around for pants or a towel. He found the sleeping bottoms and once it got them on, he gently started to escort the two women toward the door. He took the grooming items and placing them on the bed then pushing the cart to the side, he said, "Like I said last night, I have been dressing myself since I was a wee lad." The ladies started to say something so to stop any argument, he gave each a toe curling kiss and said, "Thank you," then gave their asses a tap into the hotel hallway.

Ianto had forgotten about Galron. So when he turned back he was slightly stunned when he saw the still naked male smiling, leaning against the bed's headboard with his hands crossed atop of his head to give a good view of a magnificent hard on. He recognized Jack's guile but kept his "you too" look on his face. "Jack said you were stubborn." Galron got up and assembled his clothes with his back to Ianto, who thought the sudden shyness charming – in another time . . .

Ianto found his book of Psalms and prayers as well as a sweater, wondering if he could find something similar to the rabbi's gardens or a coffee shop. Aliyah had given him the book, _Notes on Our Doorposts_, as an engagement present. It had been a constant companion throughout this journey. This was especially meaningful:

_Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; _

_Nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday. _

_A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand; but it shall not come nigh thee._

Psalm 91.5

"I wish you all the luck in the world, Ianto Jones," came a deep but familiar voice. "I'm not sure anyone deserves you, most of all Jack Harkness."

The voice would have made Ianto turn around normally but he was already lost in his thoughts. If he had, Ianto would have seen John Hart leave – his face a mixture of regret and pity.

Instead, Ianto Jones put on his iPod. He was caught in a memory created by Elton John -"Someone Saved My Life Tonight" – on the night before Canary Wharf. His best friend was trying to talk him out of asking Lisa to marry him:

_When I think of those East End lights, muggy nights  
>The curtains drawn in the little room downstairs<br>Prima Donna lord you really should have been there  
>Sitting like a princess perched in her electric chair<br>And it's one more beer and I don't hear you anymore  
>We've all gone crazy lately<br>My friends out there rolling round the basement floor_

Archie thought Lisa was a snob and only with him because of where she thought he was going in "the company", as Torchwood One was referred to by insiders. "Quiet as it's kept, mate," said Archie while both were drunk, "You're going places." Archie was an executive assistant, doing a great deal of grunt work for the top administrators at the Queen's largest and busiest hub, so he was privy to much of the company gossip. "They like you're work and are thinking about a promotion."

"To where?" Ianto slurred.

"Why the archive library, of course!" Archie said but his exasperation turned quickly to urgency, "And she . . . ," he continued, pointing his finger at Lisa, who sat cross legged across the room, chatting animatedly with some office mates. "And she knows it." He tried to take another swig at his beer, missed his mouth and dribbled some down his chin. Looking at the incredulous stare, he continued, "Please Ianto! Don't be so daf! An executive in the archive library is worth more than one of those blokes doing field work – do you know their life expectancy is only 5 years?" Finally took a successful gulp. "A widow only gets half a pension for that while you'll live forever and she is likely to see at least £45,000 a year" – another gulp – "when she tires of you then dumps you after 3 kids, and a shit load of debts."

_I never realized the passing hours of evening showers  
>A slip noose hanging in my darkest dreams<br>I'm strangled by your haunted social scene  
>Just a pawn out-played by a dominating queen<br>It's four o'clock in the morning  
>Damn it listen to me good<br>I'm sleeping with myself tonight  
>Saved in time, thank God my music's still alive<em>

Neither Lisa or Archie lived long enough for . . . .

"Ianto!" came a desperate voice. It was his sister Roxanne, "Aren't you ready? You're going to be late." She passed through the door like a hurricane side stepping a Kansas barn. She was visibly nervous, uncertain what she should be doing but careful avoid her brother's boundaries. Instead she fumbled with her outfit, "This is very cute on those middle eastern women but I personally can't see how they wear it all day.

"I'm sure they manage," Ianto relinquished his headphones and abandoned his solitude, realizing the sharpness of his words only shortly before they hit his sister's ears. "She's just trying to be helpful," he thought to himself. "She tries so hard to love me, keep up family after our parent died. I let Jack in without so much as a second date but I don't give my sister a thought."

"You look lovely, Rox," he said, using a nickname from childhood.

This brought a big grin but she remained cautious, "Is there anything I can do? I mean, anything to help you get ready?"

He paused, wanting to respond properly to her sincerity, "I still have to shower but I'll need to get this turban thing on."

"That's great! Just brilliant," she plopped herself on the bed, only briefly noting the messiness in the room that signals to anyone except a priest what had happened earlier. She looked up at him again with raised brow and a knowing grin.

"It's not what you think."

"Ah," she said, doubting him at first and then realizing he wasn't lying, she started to ask something but thought better of it.

Ianto busied himself gathering his wedding wear, "Do you have the ring?"

"Sure," she said, standing to put it into her baby brother's palm. As he reached out to receive the gold band, she clasped his hand in both of hers, "Are sure, darling? Are you sure it's right . . .he's right?" He looked at her kindly, watching her eyes swell with tears. When they hugged, he recalled two small children who would huddle together in a closet whenever their father would descend into one his drunken rages. "I mean, he beautiful and ever so charming. But, I just don't know."

He leaned back and looked into his sister's eyes, full of concern but desperately wanting to be respectful. "What do you mean?"

They moved over to a small but elegant table and chairs and sat. "Like I said, I don't know." She sighed, "It's not that don't think he loves you – I can see that." She looked off for a moment to gather her thoughts, "It's just I can't help thinking that this work of yours, it's so dangerous." He wanted to tell her but thought better of it. She added, "And this immortality stuff."

"Rox," he whispered.

"Ah yeah, I know or I should say, I remember," she eyed him with some irritation and a chin lifted by determination. "I only pretended to swallow that pill you gave us. And before you leap all over me, I made sure the others did. But Ianto, I'm tired of you keeping things from me and if I have to steal back the relationship I used to have with my little brother, the one who would get beat up for standing up for me at school, then that's what I'm going to do!"

Ianto simply hung his head, "I'm sorry."

"You should be!" she said then waited a beat before continuing. "Never mind that – how are you going to live with someone who will watch you grow old, get a belly, and god forbid, go bald!"

"I have thought about it, . . . alittle."

"Well, that's the easy part. He seems the kind of chap who would ignore that sort of stuff, for some reason – he's probably seen plenty of that over the years. How old did you say he was?"

"It's rather complicated."

"Well, I'm sure it is!" She reached over and grasped his hand affectionately again. "But Ianto, it just seems wrong. Like I said, I knows he loves you – loves you for the long haul. But how does he live without you – how does anyone live with the constant loss of everything they've ever loved? It's just not . . . natural I'm not sure it is for you?"

In his excitement, Ianto hadn't thought of how immortality would impact him – what would it be like to watch helplessly as all his loved ones died, were born, then died over and over again for all eternity? Aliyah had talked to him about "answered prayers. His wish had come true and he would have the partner he loved forever but at what price for the others in his life?

He had forgotten the iPod was still on repeat, and the volume loud enough to hear through the discarded ear buds. The previous song's loop bemused him:

_And someone saved my life tonight sugar bear  
>You almost had your hooks in me didn't you dear<br>You nearly had me roped and tied  
>Altar-bound, hypnotized<br>Sweet freedom whispered in my ear  
>You're a butterfly<br>And butterflies are free to fly  
>Fly away, high away, bye bye<em>

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. It was Aliyah, "Hello? Am I doing a wedding tonight or what?" For the first time, Ianto was uncertain.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Iberr Mustaff epitomized the defiant teenager. In the white walled, windowless interrogation room, his angry eyes and pierced, silent lips, could have been the antidote to life for some drunken, lonely social worker at her best friend's hen party. But soon thousands, maybe millions of dead bodies could cover two planets. Gwen Cooper had to 1 - put aside her rage toward a cyborg who looked exactly like her who likely would fuck her husband; 2 – avoid her jealousy as she watched Ianto steal the only man she wanted but never had; 3 – find the target sites and motives of an alien army of unknown size; and 4) keep baby from rendering her bladder completely bruised and battered.

"Aren't you alittle beyond your time for this," said the savvy kid. "Women like you should be shuttled out of view so as to not offend people."

His snotty comment redeployed her. She cocked her head slightly then brightened her eyes, softened her voice, "Right, maybe I am too old for this . . . I do have better, well, more important things to do."

"Yes! Pregnancy is a sacred activity. It is your duty . . . the only reason for your existence." Iberr sat up straighter, looking as if his 5'9", 20 year old frame was ready to take some rightful place. "You should be preparing for your duty as mother, not involving you in things none of your business. Are you a harlot? Have you no man to teach you properly?"

Gwen winced but recovered quickly – she knew his kind. From Christian Evangelicals through Jewish Orthodox Haredim and their multiple Muslim terrorist counterparts, fanaticism was nothing more than an attempt to divine certainty then avoid accepting the fact that living is a messy uncertainty. "My baby and I would survive?"

He took a moment to consider her question, "Mmm, probably not. Your accent is British and unless you have accepted the one true faith, which you obviously haven't because your hair is not covered and your dress is that of a whore, you will die with the rest of them."

She suppressed a desire to shake her head then throttle him a few times, "Die? That frightens me." She sat across from him on the plastic chair, absent even a table. Such a set up allowed for once less object for someone to throw but space changes that often made the suspect more uncomfortable. "If I found the one true faith, would we survive?"

"Possibly, . . . it is not easy." He thought again, "Maybe not you but if you have a male, he will likely be needed and thus would survive. Your death would be his ticket into this life then the next if he is obedient."

Gwen repositioned herself in the chair to present as more demur and sweetened her tone, "It would bring so much comfort to me, Mr. Mustaff, if you could tell me how and when I am going to die. I know prayer will bring redemption in the afterlife but I'd like to prepare, maybe leave a tape or something for my baby so he'll know his mum loved him."

Her pleading tone satisfied him, lulling into a sense that he had successfully tamed her and got her to accept her place. He stuck out his chest like a lion who won the battle over a rival, feeling certain now that he could prove to his superiors he readiness to take a wife. "I suppose there is no harm in telling you how you will die so you are prepared to meet Allah and can dedicate your child to him even before his birth," he said with a self-assured smirk.

"Thank you for offering me your answers," said Gwen looking at the floor, mostly to hide the fact she knew her trap had worked.

An hour later, when she emerged from the interrogation room, she understood the whole plan except when the invasion was going to happen.

_Never knew I could feel like this _

_Like I've never seen the sky before_

_Want to vanish inside your kiss_

_Everyday I love you more and more_

_Listen to my heart - can you hear, it sings_

_Telling me to give you everything_

_Seasons may change, winter to spring_

_But I love you until the end of time_

- "Come What May", from the motion picture Moulin Rouge

On Jeshurun Prime the appearance of three stars – Grateful, Hopeful, and Reality (Hebrew translation) – declared sundown, the end of the Jewish Sabbath and the beginning of the year's most fabulous ocean side wedding. The sparseness of human décor was more than made up for by the stunning natural backdrop. The beach sparkled like tiny diamonds due to the minerals, mixed in with the sand. The fading sunlight left the cloudless sky with streaks of rich purples and blues that seemed to kiss the tops of the distant mountains. The ocean waves were serene, lapping wistful, deep blue bubbles upon the shore. Smoke from the pit fires that outlined the ceremony site carried a hint of sage and frankincense. Walking toward the site, one could hear light whispers and gay laughter as well as, off in the distance, the clink of glasses and dishware as the last bits of the reception were being arranged.

Around 100 wedding guests, many of them from Jack's bachelor party, stood in a semi-circle around a raised platform, or bimah. Unlike the guests, who were dressed like the two grooms, Rabbi Teelbalum wore the traditional black robe, white and blue prayer shawl, and matching yarmulke. Next to her was a small table with a carafe, a blue wine glass, quill with ink jar, and a scroll. Each man waited in his tent with different reasons for pre-wedding jitters. Jack wondered what it would be like to live with someone forever (the marriages of the vampires on Carotid Sheath tended to last 150 years or more - or until one challenged the other to a fight to the death). Ianto wonder if he could keep Jack on the farm.

The sound of a small bell signaled the two grooms to emerge from opposite ends of the beach. They arrived simultaneously atop the bimah, taking their place facing one another under the canopy, or chuppah. The chuppah cloth was made from white silk with edges of blue embroidered lettering repeating the phrase, "I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine" in alternating Hebrew and English. The cloth was attached to wooden polls at each corner, with Rhiannon, Gwen's substitute, Martha Jones, and John Hart holding a poll. Jack gave John an irritated glance after smiling gratefully at Martha. John looked away, his envy barely contained. Ianto directed himself at Aliyah's ceremony.

The rabbi began, "I welcome Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones to the chuppah with this shared glass of wine". She poured a generous amount into the goblet while quietly reciting a prayer. She then handed it to Ianto, who took a slight sip, and then gave it to Jack who finished the glass, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Aliyah rolled her eyes while returning the glass to the table.

"The couple has chosen to include the reading and signing of their marriage contract, the Ketubah, as part of the formal ceremony," she announced. She looked at Jack directly, choosing to continue using his no deplume, "Jack Harkness, do you declare yourself to this man?"

Jack came to the moment at hand, as if reminded of the seriousness of this decision, "I do." He didn't look at Ianto but at his shoes, like some school boy facing his first date.

Aliyah smiled slightly with her voice sounding like it started and ended something all at the same time. She nodded slightly at jack then turned toward Ianto, who became immediately bashful. "And Ianto Jones, how say you?"

"I do also." He took a quick glance at Jack, but too found himself overwhelmed.

"Then I offer this decoration in your name also."

Aliyah lifted the scroll containing the marriage contract and began to read, "On this day, in this place, and before these kindred folk, these two men have entered into a mutual covenant as equal partners before God and say each to the other: 'I betroth you to me forever. I betroth you to me in everlasting faithfulness. In the spirit of Jewish tradition, I will be your loving friend as you are mine. Set me as a seal upon your heart, like the seal upon your hand, for love is stronger than death. And I will cherish you, honor you, uphold and sustain you in all truth and sincerity. I will respect you and the divine image within you. I take you to be mine in love and tenderness. May my love for you last forever." She returned the scroll to the small table and announced, "The reading of this Ketubah has been witnessed by representatives of your kin and now will be signed according to the laws and traditions that began with Abraham and Sarah and continued through Moses and the people of Israel. And with your signatures, it becomes valid, here and throughout the universe." She lay the scroll open on the small table and handed Ianto the quill. He dipped in the ink and moved his hand toward the scroll, only to pause to look at Jack one more time - one last chance to back out.

"Sign it," winked Jack, "You're holding up the reception and I'm starving!"

Ianto knew what that wink meant and he was thankful for the looseness of his wedding outfit. He returned to signing only to withdraw momentarily as he noted a bit of ink had fallen unceremoniously on the critical document, lying like a drop of blood on a battlefield. Aliyah touched his hand, signaling that everything was alright. He signed then stood up, handing the quill back to Aliyah.

Aliyah now handed the quill to Jack. He signed decisively, looking intensely at the document after returning the quill to Aliyah as if saying, " . . . and it was good".

"Wedding rings are made precious by our wearing of them. Your rings say that even in your uniqueness you have chosen to be bound together. Let these rings also be a sign that love has substance as well as soul, a present as well as a past, and that despite its occasional sorrows, love is a circle of happiness, wonder, and delight," she paused while the two men exchanged gold bands. Aliyah took hold and joined the left hand of both men to one another.

She spoke the wedding vows in Hebrew and in unison, the two men repeated them in English:

_Just as this circle is without end,_

_My love for you is limitless._

_Just as it is made of indestructible substance,_

_My commitment to you will never fail._

_With this ring I take you to be my best friend, lover, and partner for life._

Aliyah continued, "Your lives and spirits are joined in a union of love and trust. Let your hearts be united in faith and hope and beat as one in times of gladness as in times of sadness. Let your home be built on faith and loving-kindness. May your home be rich with wisdom and reverence." Aliyah glanced at Ianto then at Jack, "Alright then, give each other a kiss!"

Ianto hesitated, nearly opting to shake hands like when Jack returned after his sabbatical with the Doctor. It had been so long since they'd been together. He was nearly paralyzed by an array of paired but contradictory feelings – joy and fear, lust and anxiety, hopefulness and dread - it was as if he couldn't remember what to do.

Jack, on the other hand, had never felt so sure of something in over 150 years. Ianto was his faithful anchor – now Jack had someone who would never leave him. "Ianto Jones, your presence brings joy to my resurrections, and I play to spend the rest of our lives making you happy."

"I suppose then I won't be bored."

"Hardly," Jack laughed. He embraced Ianto then pulled back to cup Ianto's face to kiss him deeply.

They came apart reluctantly, with Ianto smiling sheepishly, imagining the passionate sex they would soon share. Aliyah lifted the wine goblet to show the grooms and guests alike then brought the ceremony to conclusion, "As you have consented in this ceremony in the presences of friends and family to be partners for life, I now, with the breaking of this glass, pronounce you married and bound together body and soul."

The crowd shouted, "Mazal Tov" – congratulations – clapped, and cheered. As the two men, holding hands, descended the platform, guests threw small, wrapped candies which symbolize the hope for a sweet life together. They ran dodging sweet bullets the several yards to the reception center, a building with a glass roof – a great place as the early evening mosquitoes that time of year on Jershum Prime were the size of shot glass that leave nasty welts. And as religious as the Jewish wedding ceremonies on the planet are, the receptions are obscene.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

The room décor for the reception area was amazing – an incredible combination of elegant dining and refined sensuality, colored with tans and soft browns throughout then highlighted by vanilla scented tableside votive candles, a large disco ball, along with moonlight shining through the clear, glass ceiling. At the far corner, a buffet of freshly cooked foods commonly seen in any Middle Eastern restaurant were served by barely clad and very tone women. Next to it, an open bar offering exotic cocktails created by buff and tanned male mixologists. Between the bar and 25, four person round guest tables was a vast dance floor with seven slightly elevated cages and six dancer polls in a large circle in the center. The floor had an almost natural vibration from the innominate band somewhere in the distance.

The newlyweds stood alone briefly amidst this pending sensuality. Jack looked around the room pleased and astounded, "You've outdone yourself this time, hon."

"Sarah's local knowledge was indispensable."

Jack looked at him incredulously, "Really?" He grabbed Ianto's elbow, directing him to the head table. On top of beige table cloth, Jack picked up one of rolled cigarettes sprinkled along with the white rose peddles.

"I don't smoke," said Ianto.

Jack lit it, took a strong pull, and handed it to Ianto, "It is traditional on the planet – part of the reception."

"Likely a filiopietistic reference," said Ianto, trying to pull away from Jack's smoke just as the guests started to arrive. The guests were already in a state of undress similar to that of the bartenders and servers. Like Jack, they headed for the tables to smoke the pre-rolled cigarettes. In moments, a sage-like smelling mist filled the room. "Told you – people look forward to it," said Jack. "Some say it's the best part of the wedding," he gave that devilish wink again.

"Oh, don't be so uptight, eye candy," said John Hart as he draped his hand over Ianto's shoulder while circling around as if initiating a tango. "Besides, I read that on Earth you're supposed to get trashed at your wedding." But as John circled around he took one look at Jack Harkness and decided an immediate exit stage right was warranted, "Oh, I think I see an old friend."

Jack's murderous look was only interrupted by the approach of a well-wisher Ianto did not recognize. But no sooner had Ianto met one person, he was introduced to another and then another as they arrive in immediate succession. People from Jack's worlds – Ianto wondered when they all would become family friends. In a few moments, Jack was surrounded by a sea of admirers, some likely jealous and wondering if they could still could get some ("Well, could they?" wondered Ianto, as the two men had never discussed monogamy).

Ianto went back to staring at the cigarette now sticking to his palm. "It's called esheb," said Sarah who has slipped up behind him. "It is only grown here." He hadn't seen her during the ceremony and, considering she was in her usual fatigues, she was likely on duty for the duration. There still was a threat after all.

"Mmm."

"It is similar to ecstasy, giving you a feeling of mild euphoria and a warm feeling toward others," she took it from Ianto's hand and ran it underneath her nose like a Cigar Aficionado reviewer. "And this is high quality." She closed her eyes momentarily savoring the aroma. Upon reorienting to Ianto's quizzical look, she continued, "Esheb and alcohol are strictly controlled on this planet – they are permitted only on holidays and at weddings and only in the context of a family or community gathering. Conviction for the use or sale at any other time or sale to anyone under the age of 16 means public stoning." Ianto's expression did not change. She continued, "It is not addictive if used infrequently and there is very little in the way of a hangover . . . ". Her voice seemed to trail off and she looked at her feet. "Aliyah and I were married here also – it is tradition."

"Right," he assured her, "got a light?"

She reached around him and took a lighter from the table. "Don't inhale too deeply otherwise you'll burn your throat. But hold the smoke for 10 seconds". Like a newbie at the Rocky Horror Picture Show, he followed her instructions. She counted, "One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand . . ." That first toke warmed his lungs and tickled his throat but he liked the slightly naughty, dirty freedom was it immediately gave him.

Jack was still chatting a few feet away. He looked over his shoulder when he heard Ianto coughing. He groaned, saying to himself, "Oh yeah, this is going to be the best wedding reception I've ever had!"

Sarah fired up the lighter again, "Take another hit, you probably only need two for now. This time, let the smoke slowly out of your nose." He followed her instructions and by the time he'd blown out all the smoke, he could feel why the Jews here liked this stuff and why they tightly limited it use. "You okay?"

"Brilliant."

She nodded with a smirk, put out the smoldering joint in a nearby astray, then pocketed the remainder, "I'll hold on to this for a while."

Jack swooped behind his partner, pushing Sarah aside, "I'll take him from here, thank you officer!" She slipped into the room's darkness without argument with the assuredness of a contented wedding planner. Meanwhile, Jack motioned Ianto toward wedding guests, introducing him to the curious. The band had started playing now. Ianto could feel the embolden beat from the band and began swaying slightly while still being held from behind, Jack's chin definitively resting on his left shoulder. Ianto exhaled – they were a couple.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

Later, while sitting in their make-shift honeymoon suite on the beach as he watched Jack dose, Ianto would recall the evening reception in his journal:

_The joint wasn't bitter, like the cigarettes I snuck behind the school as a teen. It was a smooth, easy taste that seemed to fall deep into my lungs and made me feel expansive, like I wanted and could do anything. It was as if every cell in my body had just been set free from a life time of bondage. I was exploding with warm feelings, joy, and a heightened desire to screw and get screwed – a nice feeling of freedom for an OCD demonstration project like me and one my therapist would have smiled at._

_Then – in full view of the whole reception - Jack was removing my clothes . . . not all of them but let's say I was quite proud of the outline of my junk . . . and the hint of Jack's cock peeking out from underneath his loin cloth, a small drop of pre-cum falling effortlessly from the head. I briefly wondered if anyone saw it and if someone would be so kind as to clean it from the floor (so no one would slip and fall). Then he was nibbling at my neck, slowly and deliberately teasing as he avoided my earlobe, a particularly sensitive spot. Never mind, as his lips had me on fire thinking he was going to seduce me right here in the middle of the reception hall, in front of all those people (and in my increasing intoxicated haze, I'm sure if I could have stopped him). Now I know he was making a statement, telling them this was real – he was off the market, so to speak. I remember thinking that that was nice of him but concerned that he'd hurt some people's feelings – I could imagine how they would feel, being without even the possibility of him, knowing that hope was like that lonely drop of cum on the dance floor - devastated. Floating, reinforcing my sanguine thoughts floating somewhere in the background was the wedding band playing Graffiti's " Free":_

_**But I can't live, oh without you, love you, and it's hard to breath **_

_**when you're not near**_

_**But I can't lie here beside you, besides you, **_

_**cuz' you steal my soul when you leave**_

_**Set me free baby, set me free baby.**_

"_Ianto!" my sister's voice called from someone. "Ianto, come and sit down. It's time to eat."_

_I barely remember eating but I suppose I did. We were at the only rectangular table – my sister and her husband at my left with Martha and Aliyah next to Jack. I don't know where John Hart was but I could have sworn I felt his eyes nearby. Plates full of a variety of middle eastern dishes , empty bottles of Champaign, and more esheb were scattered around the table. There were various toasts and accompanying speeches, of which Rhys' was the best, although I am hard pressed to remember it. Knowing my brother-in-law, I'm sure his is on someone's phone heading toward YouTube. What I do remember is smiling and thinking everyone was nice and beautiful._

"_Ianto, hello?" Gosh my name sounded nice coming from Jack._

"_Huh?"_

"_It's time for the couple's first dance."_

"_Oh! Brilliant," I said but then I realized that my legs needed consultation for this to all work right._

_The band leader introduced us, "Ladies, Gentlemen, and all points in-between, I am pleased to present our happy couple, Ianto Jones and Jack Harkness." _

_I managed not only to stand but I even gave a slight bow. Jack rolled his eyes and maneuvered me to the center of what seemed like a giant golden dance floor. The band was silhouetted, barely visible in the far corner but when the tall, fair-skinned solo singer stepped into a spotlight sing Etta James' "A Sunday Kinda Love", the room hushed, all eyes on us. At first, we just stood there looking at one another. I was full of so much love for this man. We were going to rescue mankind, keep the Earth safe forever in the mist of great sex – talk about a life with purpose._

_I remember wondering if I should relinquish my 401K to my niece and nephew when Jack must of caught me thinking. "We're having our wedding dance and your calculating." He cupped my face, like he does when he's about to kiss me, "Hush, close your eyes - listen to the music." His mouth made me loose count._

_**And my arms need someone**____**  
><strong>__**Someone to enfold**__**  
><strong>__**To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold**__**  
><strong>__**Love for all my life to have and to hold**__**  
><strong>__**Oh and I want a Sunday kind of love**_

_His kiss created a standing ovation from the crowd and tingles all over my body. I opened my eyes long enough to realize that everyone was in equal state of undress – breasts barely covered (I could have done without seeing my sister's) and loin cloths doing more defining than concealing. Was this a wedding reception or the introduction to an orgy?_

_When our dance was over, it was time for the guests to join us on the floor. The soloist returned to the background with the rest of the band and the pace picked up with Korn's cover of "Word Up":_

_**Now all you sucker DJs who think you're fly**_

_**There's got to be a reason and we know the reason why **_

_**You try to put on those airs and act real cool **_

_**But you got to realize that you're acting like a fool **_

_**if it's a music, we can use it **_

_**Be free to dance **_

_**We don't have the time for psychological romance **_

_**No romance, no romance, no romance for me mamma **_

_**Come on baby tell me what's the word **_

_**A Word up (up up) everybody say**_

_**When you hear the call you've got to get it under way**_

_**A Word up (up up) it's the code word**_

_**No matter where you say it you know that you'll be heard**_

_I relinquished Jack to Martha then took up with Aliyah._

"_Happy?" she asked._

"_Intoxicated."_

"_I've heard he has that effect on others." _

_She swayed her hips with previously unforeseen abandon, wearing a sheer, purple mid-rift top and white, loose gypsy pants. Her braids hung loose down her back, brushing against her hips as she moved. I tried not to look too close to the woman who just an hour ago stood as clergy but she had magnificently full, firm breasts . . . "Pardon, do you know where the washroom is?"_

_She giggled at my obvious embarrassment (was she intoxicated too?) and pointed to the other side of the room, her red nail polish shimmering in contrast to her silver bangles and hoop earrings. "I didn't mean to tease you," she whispered toward me with much sincerity, "but the intensity of things will only increase from here out."_

_I nodded and escaped toward the men's room. I opened the door and found one woman, naked, spread eagle across a urinal while another kneeling, wearing only pants, bobbing her head between the other's legs. "I'm sorry." What else does one say in such circumstances? However, they seemed not to notice. As I decided to instead enter a stall, out of another came an older looking man, "Ladies! Starting without m? Tsk, tsk, tsk!"_

_The one eating raised her head, the other's juices forming a thick halo around her face. "I'm just warming her up." The other woman opened her eyes and moaned pleadingly, then tempted to pull the other back to clit. "We are ready, eh?" she managed to say._

_I entered a stall as I saw the man lift the lady from the urinal over his shoulder (maybe not so old after all?) and take her out the door, their friend giggling and jiggling from behind. I smiled to myself, then finished my business and exited the stall._

_I came out to see Sarah, still in her fatigues, standing against the sink. "Don't like weddings?"_

"_We still have an enemy about," she answered looking around as if someone was to pop out of drains. Reaching in her pocket, she retrieved then handed me the rest of the esheb and a lighter, "It is time for you to rejoin the party." A little too eagerly, I took the joint and used it. This time I took time to hold the smoke and enjoy the feeling of the intoxicant filling all the nerves in my body. I was tingling, excited, and the world was feeling wonderful despite a distant memory of a pending invasion. "The __**avergeyh **__begins."_

"_What?"_

_Sarah walked to the door and held it open for me, "The orgy." I reached the exit-way and saw a scene of bodies engaged in a human feast that would have impressed ancient Roman royalty, "Find your Jack and enjoy."_

_She didn't have to ask me twice. _


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

_Jack doesn't know this but sometimes at night, I escape to a local club and dance. It's something I never share with others. I rarely lie so I do it well, thus can make excuses on the odd Friday or Saturday night and no one's the wiser. I'm keen to always pick those nights Jack's sulking over something or another and rather be alone – I long ago got over taking that performance of his personally. _

_Not that I'm ashamed of my skills. I'm a good dancer – I enter the floor alone but never leave that way – but it is a meditative release I'd rather keep to myself. Lisa knew only because I took her dancing the night I was going to ask her marry me. Yet Aliyah knew - she had to because as I walked out of the restroom, the electronic beats from my favorite dance tune shook the floor under my feet. It had to be those damn psychic powers – most people know the radio version of Talk Talk's "It's My Life", not the slightly darker mix with Liquid People – I always requested this song whenever Jack and I had a row. I could feel Aliyah saying, "Let go, for now."_

_The song offers a long intro so I stood for a while, drinking in a scene of the best live porn any webcam could think to offer. Nearly a hundred nearly naked, gorgeous humanoids of every shape and color, gender and species, pop dropping and sharp rolling to the electric drum – holding back to let the song build through a series of quiet melodic bounces that stop, then lull you into the main musical theme. I felt myself falling into it and closed my eyes, letting the beat sink low as the esheb seemed to expand me._

"_I've never seen you like this," said Jack from behind me, his voice low and languid like thick, organic syrup over hotcakes. "I like it". He came around and took my hand, so we could join the erotic sea of flesh. He likely wasn't listening to words of the song:_

_**Funny how I find myself in love with you**_

_**If I could buy my reasoning I'd pay to lose**_

_**One half won't do**_

_**I've asked myself**_

_**How much do you commit yourself?**_

_**It's my life**_

_**Don't you forget**_

_**It's my life**_

_**It never ends**_

_I can't quite recall exactly what happened, it was all quite surreal – the steady comfort of drum sounds, flashing disco lights, sweet sex sweat, and Jack's hands all over me. _

_**Funny how I blind myself**_

_**I never knew if I was sometimes played upon**_

_**Afraid to lose,**_

_**I'd tell myself what good you do**_

_**Convince myself**_

_**It's my life**_

_**Don't you forget**_

_**It's my life**_

_**It never ends**_

_I was floating yet grounded in his deft fingers that followed my hips, up to my chest, to outline my face. I was getting lost, falling, lost in the most perfect moment of my life. _

_**I've asked myself**_

_**How much do you commit yourself?**_

_**It's my life**_

_**Don't you forget**_

_**Caught in the crowd**_

_**It never ends**_

_He sank his mouth into my neck, biting like a starving vampire. It was the best organism I have ever had. I exhaled and Lisa was gone._

_Then John Hart arrived. The music changed as his slick smirk rose, "May I have this dance?" It wasn't clear if he was talking to me or Jack and his arranging for Adele's "Rumor Has It" to play didn't make things clearer. _

_**Bless your soul, you've got your head in the clouds,  
>You made a fool out of you,<br>And, boy, she's bringing you down,  
>She made your heart melt,<br>But you're cold to the core,  
>Now rumor has it she ain't got your love anymore<strong>_

"_John," said Jack taking an almost pleading tone, "Don't ruin this."_

_John moved between us, shaking his ass, seeking attention like a needy child at bedtime, "Harkness, you owe me this."_

_Jack leaned into John and growled into the man's ear, "When this is done, you leave . . . forever!"_

_I started to walk away – the drug made it hard for me to be angry or jealous. Besides, I could have done with a glass of water. But John stopped me, "Where are you going, eye candy? Why not make it a ménage?"_

_Frankly, if Jack hadn't been so hacked off, I may have taken things further, seeing how good I felt about all humanoid kind at that moment. But I decided to not spoil things and save my growing arousal for my husband and shrugged John off._

_Aliyah and Sarah danced toward us like an armed U.N. peacekeeping force and scooped up John just as the song ended. I barely noticed, gulping down a glass of water at the bar as the music continued, moving to the next song – a popular rasta rap inspired ditty in New York Jewish circles, "Jerusalem" by Matisyahu. Aliyah introduced me to this newly popular music style expected at all the best Jewish weddings. I like this song and immediately started bouncing with everyone else like a giddy yeshiva student at a rave._

_**Jerusalem, if I forget you,**_

_**fire not gonna come from me tongue.**_

_**Jerusalem, if I forget you,**_

_**let my right hand forget what it's supposed to do**__._

_Suddenly, a hand came from nowhere. "Let's go while we can," said Jack as he guided me to the door._

"_Dressed like this?"_

"_Where we're going, you won't need clothes."_


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

_Looking out at the road rushing under my wheels_

_Looking back at the years gone by like so many summer fields_

_In sixty-five I was seventeen and running up one-o-one_

_I don't know where I'm running now, I'm just running on_

"Ianto Jones, you're the only person I know that would research the expensive car he was being driven in instead of enjoying it!" Jack drove the shiny, jet black roadster speeding through the late night air on a vacant two lane highway like he did the SUV back on Earth. The roadway was smoother than a newborn's ass and the car ran quieter than a reading library. The only way you knew the vehicle was moving were the flashes of passing landscape.

"The SS100 is a British 2-seat sports car built between 1936 and 1940 by SS Cars Ltd of Coventry. The last one is thought to have been delivered in 1941," Ianto read.

Both men were only slightly redressed from the reception. Ianto looked like Don Johnson the night after on an episode of "Miami Vice" – tan pants, matching long sleeve pirate shirt and canvas shoes. "This is a 1938, remarkably smooth and terribly elegant. The first time I drove one of these, I was working in the RAF, or rather I was working through the RAF, stopping for the occasional WLA volunteer . . . or was it the ladies first and pilots second. And then there was that time in that hideaway in the underground . . . ," Jack said. He didn't mind just the shirt billowing in the wind, preferring bare feet gripping the accelerator and to feel the smoothness of his clean shaven balls across the car's Pantera Italian leather seats.

Ianto shook his head and continued reading from his iPad – more curious as to how Jeruselm Prime had universal Internet access than becoming lost in another one of Jack's swaggers, "The SS Cars Ltd Model 100 'Jaguar' was so named as the '100' reflected the capability of the 3.5-litre model to exceed 100mph - then a remarkable speed for a production vehicle. In common with many products of the thirties, the adoption of an animal name was deemed appropriate, and once approved by executive Bill Lyons the moniker 'Jaguar' stuck, and from that point to all the cars."

"This goes to 150."

"Yeah, . . . after the war, because of the connotations then attached to the initials 'SS', the whole company was renamed Jaguar."

Jack caught a glance at the screen then said with mock indignation, "Wikipedia? Really, THAT'S beneath you!"

He paused merely to breath, "Did you know one just like this sold recently at auction for £263,200?"

Ianto was about to talk about the auction house and buyer when Jack reached over, grabbed the iPad, and unceremoniously tossed it out the car, "I know," Jack rounded a wide corner so sharply that Ianto thanked God the car had modern seat belts. "Where do you think I got this?"

Ianto shot an irritated glance in response to Jack's smugness and settled back in his seat as the rest of Jackson Browne's "Running on Empty" made him smile – confident he knew he had his iPhone in his bag.

_Gotta do what you can just to keep your love alive_

_Trying not to confuse it with what you do to survive_

_In sixty-nine I was twenty-one and I called the road my own_

_I don't know when that road turned onto the road I'm on_

Ianto closed his eyes initially to isolate the distant smell of gardenias and lilacs carried by crisp sea air. But then he opened them again and leaned the seat back. He looked up with contentment at the star strewn midnight sky peeking between the Macadamia nut trees that delineated the two lane highway that Jack swerved like he was drawing an outline of J. Lo's hips. It was a bit chilly but Jack was having so much fun driving like this that Ianto dared not ask him to pull the top up. However, the barometer on his watch had been indicating a likely rain. Wherever he was taking him, Ianto hoped it had a room with a roof and a warm blanket.

He hadn't expected a tent on the beach. "Damn," Ianto thought, "that Amy Winehouse has perfect timing."

_Nobody stands in between me and my man, it's me_

_And Mr. Jones_

_What kind of fuckery is this?_

They had pulled off the road and driven several yards onto what seemed to be a public parking area. "Isn't this great! The sounds of ocean off in the distance, the moons resting atop the horizon while the waves rush back and forth. And this sky is great tonight," said Jack getting out of the car.

All Ianto saw were dozens of other camps a short distance away. All he heard were drunken sounds of partiers who had started much earlier in the evening. "It's cold," said Ianto, who proceeded to pull up the car's top.

"Ah that's nothing! I'm good at building fires and the agent said this place is snug." Jack tore off ahead, presumably to find firewood amongst the sand.

Ianto believed that the only place where sand and sex mixed was in the movies. Sand in the hair, sticking to private parts and rubbing around everything else was not his idea of fun. He shook his head and figured this was just another in an upcoming series of challenges he would have to face now that he was married to this man. Happiness did not come easy, his sister said, and despite the fact he thought his brother-in-law a bit of a goof, his image of them together at the reception – romantically corporeal – made him believe escaping the taciturnity of their parent's home was possible.

Besides, once he saw the tent's interior things didn't look so primitive. Up close, it didn't look so small either and he knew a little bit about camping from going fishing with his dad as a kid – something the elder Jones liked more than the son. But, like tailoring, Ianto enjoyed the details thus making what could have been an unpleasant experience at least tolerable. After several hours of mind-blowing sex with an immortal who could reinvent the concept of a honeymoon night, Ianto would write in his journal:

_It was a six-person, two door __**Browning® Black Canyon Tent**__ with zippered mesh windows and four mesh pockets. It was a free-standing three-pole design with an amazing center height of 7'3" and a 150-denier polyester floor, with a coating 2,000mm waterproof-rating throughout that would keep the water out. On the other side of the wall divider were the well-wrapped wedding gifts. I wondered who was smart enough to have gotten us the Baratza Vario burr coffee grinder I listed on the registry– of course, Gwen. I love that woman._

_I thought of making a quick cappuccino using the __**DeLonghi Magnifica**__ John Hart had given us but realized I was still touched by the __**escheb**__ and didn't want to ruin a good cup of the accompanying Vietnamese blend – besides I reckon Jack's still pissed anyway. Instead, I used the Avian water to make tea in the electric Persian brass samovar (a gift from my sister and brother-in-law) that I plugged into the alien looking device that I assumed was a gas catalytic heater. I made two mugs of __**Sinicuichi Erotica**__ – a gift from Martha. According to the box, this tea is a blend of a high quality __**English Tea Melange**__, with dried __**Sinicuichi **__leaves, lemon and turnea herb. According to Google, __**Sinicuichi**__ "gives a mild but very relaxing experience". It is reported that the plant is endowed with supernatural powers that it give one vivid recall of past events. Like I need to get more high._

_I was putting the mugs on the breakfast in bed tray beside the 3 foot high air mattress when Jack entered the tent with an armful of mangled sticks. He looked disappointed when he realized the room was already toasty and his efforts were for naught, "Show off."_

"_I reckon," I said, turning down the comforter. "The bed's still cold."_

"_Not for long, I suppose."_

_I smiled to myself but he likely did not see it in the low lantern light. I felt strangely uncertain, like the first times we were together. It had been nearly two weeks since we'd shared a bed, so anxiety could have been natural. Maybe, or maybe not. Because this was different . When I slept with him before, I was always riddled with doubt – always thinking this could, would be the last time before he was on to something . . . someone else. Now , I suddenly realize I'm strangely confident, cocky even. And I like it. "Come drink some tea."_

"_No coffee?"_

_I took a good slip from one of the mugs, "Put down the sticks and come here." He gave one of his sidelong smirks and paused, as if considering then reconsidering a retort. I beat him to it, "I've been alternating between meditation and prayer for over two weeks. Now, I'm stoned like Robert Townsend before a Who concert and horny like a teenage schoolboy". I pulled off my pants and shirt then carefully slipped between the nondescript fur comforter and cool, soft cotton sheets. "So, put Siri into that iHome over there, click on the 'Jack Harkness' playlist, and come over here and suck my cock until it's dry." I leaned back against the broad pillows and took another sip, enjoying the warmth rolling down my throat and feeling my buzz dropping from my head to my groin. _

_Jack dropped the wood by his feet and did what he was instructed. The wind had picked up, whistling behind him as he zipped the door closed. Off in the distance, I could still hear rain drops colliding metrically against the distant sea waves and muffled sounds of revelers playing with one another in the distance. He turned the lantern light down leaving flickering shadows against the tent walls then took off his shirt. He must have heard my quiet groan because he stopped briefly before coming to bed. G-d he's mint!_

_After settling next to me in the bed, he took his mug from me and took a long, satisfying swig. He looked straight ahead and said, "I wouldn't have married you under any other condition." Fuck! How could he become a buzz kill at this of all moments. _

_Instead of flying off the handle, I decide nonchalant was the best approach. "Really?" I said while taking another sip from my mug. _

"_Yeah." He too took a sip also. "All this time, I was afraid of you, of what you've always demanded from me. Everyone else, they just worshiped me, found me the perfect trophy."_

"_Everyone?"_

"_Some wanted more but few wanted to stick it out in the long run. It's not the dying that screws with mortals, it's the getting old – they can't believe that I don't see that – that the wrinkles and age spots just don't matter to me. Shit, I've fucked creatures hellava lot stranger than someone with a bad hip or a sagging ass." He finished the tea and waved me off when I offered more but held on to the cup with both hands, as if in prayer. "They couldn't take that in and didn't believe me when I said it didn't matter. I just didn't want them to leave me."_

"_So you kept me at a distance because I was going to go bald someday?" It was my poor attempt at humor._

_He frowned, "You did comment on that once when I was in that coma."_

"_You heard that rant?"_

"_It made me feel good but scared me too," he sighed. "I really didn't want you to fall in love with me and sometimes I actively pushed you away but you kept coming back."_

"_Like a bad penny?"_

"_Like this was inevitable, a given."_

"_So you're telling me you fed me your blood so that I wouldn't leave?"_

"_Something like that, I guess."_

_I thought for a moment and decided that enough thinking had been done for the night. "Right," I said as I took his mug out of his hands and put it down next to the bed. He still had a rutilant sheen of sweat on him and I got a good whiff of those devilish pheromones. "Listen luv, we've gotta have some ground rules to this relationship and the most obvious one is that I'm the brooding, deep thinker in the family. You stick to being dashing and handsome, eh?" I sat back on my pillow again with my arms crossed defiantly. He looked at me quizzically. I, on the other hand, looked straight ahead, holding my ground. "Am I going to have to instruct you in kissing me?" I sighed dramatically like an irritated prom queen._

"_Yes sir, Mr. Jones, sir!" He moved over and straddled my legs. He cupped my face, just like he always does, and kissed me deeply, passionately, and suddenly my dick was back in business. I like that – when he kisses me like that – his lips stop time. As his tongue danced with mine, my hips lifted pushing the soft fur comforter against his balls. He let out a soft moan and met my rotating motions. I unfolded my arms, grabbing and squeezing his ass with my left hand and slowly stroking his cock with the other. It was smooth, erect and my increasingly firmer caresses made him pull back from my lips as he gasped for air. He opened his eyes briefly, giving me a pleading look which encouraged me to keep going. He started to lean back so far that I thought he'd fall over, so, while keeping the rhythm of my right hand, I moved my left from his ass and up his back, pulling him back to my mouth. His tongue didn't seem to mind and neither did his cock._

"_Damn, Ianto," he whispered, breaking up the kiss again. "I missed you – damn Aliyah for keeping you from me." He looked at his engorge cock and my hand deftly slipping up and down, "I see she has taught you several new skills."_

"_There were several workshops run by a gal name Carl."_

"_Carl?" He backed up as if I'd done something wrong. "Tall, slightly rotund, big green eyes?"_

"_I prefer rubenesque," I was slightly offended. "She was kind enough to help me appreciate the charms of a larger woman."_

"_Cheating on me already," he got out of the bed and got more tea like a petulant child, which irritated me further – I knew about his near indiscretions with Gwen and Tosh told me about the WWI solider whose name he'd stolen. He hardly had room to be jealous._

_He went into the other room and retrieved his flask then poured a half cup of what was probably hypervodka into his mug. He downed in one swallow. Seemed like a bit much but I guess he processed intoxicates faster than the rest of us. Wait. I'm no longer the "rest of us" either. "We never really discussed monogamy."_

_He got that tone he gets when he's giving the team a directive, "I have always been faithful to my wives and partners. I expect the same from you." He poured another half cup, downed some of it, then stood there with his hands on his hips – completely naked._

"_Okay." _

_He took another swig, draining the mug again then marched over to me and pulled me up to him by the back of my head. "I don't want to smell another man, woman, dog, sheep or alien on you, EVER. I will command your complete attention because I am insecure, cowardly, needy and totally self-absorbed. You are my backbone, my strength and life without you is unimaginable." He took a breath, "I need you, as much as admitting it frightens the shit out of me." He looked deeply at me, his eyes sadden, pleading, "I love you and I'm sorry for being distant before and being withdrawn in the future, 'cuz I know I will do it. I've done a lot of good but, you know now, I've done a lot that I'm ashamed of and don't imagine that you will always be proud of me."_

"_Jack."_

"_Let me get this out before I lose my guts . . ."_

"_Jack!"_

"_What?"_

_I smiled at him weakly. "My neck hurts."_

_He let me go and I fell back on the bed flat on my back with a thud, "Thanks." _

_I must have looked foolish as he laughed uproariously. "I guess I was going overboard."_

_I rearranged myself, "Yes you were." I sat up, "Now let me show you this technique Carl taught me." I came to the edge of the bed and planted my feet wide on either side of his legs. I took his hands and kissed his belly, just above his pubic line. As the hairs rubbed against my chin and his skin warmed I couldn't help but smile. He worries that I would leave him, wouldn't take care of him. He still doesn't realize what power, what a thrill I get from serving him. I can carry his strength as easily as I carry his grey coat. _

_He let out a slow, long groan which brought me out of my head and back to his cock, which frankly was getting tired of this session of "bipolars 'r us". I reached out and touched the end of his prick then massaged the dripping pre-cum around his head. In the background, I heard The Police:_

_**Mephistopheles is not your name**_

_**I know what you're up to just the same**_

_**I will listen hard to your 'tuition**_

_**You will see it come to it's fruition**_

_**I'll be wrapped around your finger**_

_**I'll be wrapped around your finger**_

_**Devil and the deep blue sea behind me**_

_**Vanish in the air you'll never find me**_

_**I will turn your flesh to alabaster**_

_**Then you'll find your servant is your master**_

_**Oh, you'll be wrapped around my finger**_

_He shivered and pleaded, "Damn it man!" He pushed his cock against my face, hoping I would take it in my mouth, "I'm going to fall over." _

"_Not so fast, luv." My voice was hushed, reassuring him that we shared the same goal but I was taking us on a different path to get there. "Come, sit next to me." He sank into the bed, still craving. "Lean back," I said, pushing him gently. He landed on his elbows, wanting to sit up and watch me. "I like that you wanna watch,": 'cuz when he closes his eyes I know he's on the edge. _

_Holding his cock up, I moved between his legs and started licking around his head firm but slow with long swipes, developing a rhythm. I spread and restrained his thighs then sunk down low, taking his whole cock into my throat – holding steady at the bottom for just a second to feel his balls quiver against my bottom lip. Pulling up twice as slow, I made humming motion with my mouth that increased the closer I got to his head. Then I did it all over again, being certain to keep the same timing each ascent and descent – making sure he felt my tongue each way and tightening my lips with that extra firmness at the top. _

"_Please!" he said after collapsing onto his back. He grabbed the back of my head, holding it down while losing the last bits of sanity. "Oh yes, just at the base, keep it there, keep it there. Yeah." His voice drifted off and he began mumbling in an unfamiliar language. Then he stopped breathing and I felt his thighs tighten into stones. He arched his back, letting go of my head while giving forth an anguish cry. I pulled up and rolled his head in my mouth, sucking the cum out while his nails tore into the comforter. _

_I stood up. "Shift yourself," I said while pulling the comforter from underneath him. "Get under the covers or you'll catch your death." _

_He rolled over like a newborn mare trying to stand for the first time. "Well, you need not be so smug about things!"_

_I walked around to his bedside and pulled the cover over him after mushing the pillow in the way he likes. I came back to my side, got in the bed upright, and pulled him onto my lap. "Is this better?"_

"_Yes," he conceded nestling his cheek on my thigh._

_I started to stroke his forehead and hair – he finds this soothing. "I suppose I was a bit priggish there," I responded, trying to suppress my sense of triumph while wiping drippings from the corner of my mouth. I most likely had given him the best blow job he's . . . . Well, let's say that he has had in some time and leave it at that._

_Without disturbing him, I reached over to my side table where I had left my small carryall. I pulled out the last fourth of the eshem joint and a lighter I snatched from the reception. I took a long hit and passed it to Jack who did the same. _

"_Jack?" I asked a few moments later, "What does it mean to be immortal? Is it really okay, I mean?" But he had fallen asleep – one of his brief recuperative naps. I put the bud out and the bag away then leaned back a bit, pulling Jack closer to me. The buzz made me feel light and free as I fell effortlessly into Chopin's Piano Concerto Number 1 in E minor. _

_I was recalling the night Jack surprised me with a trip. He had been brooding over something or another, snapping at me whenever I gave a word but later felt the worse for it. One night, after the others had left, he said the computers noted some unusual rift activity and he wanted me to come with him to check it out. I reluctantly agreed and the next thing I knew I was standing at the ticket counter about to board a flight to hear Horacio Gutierrez play this, one of my favorite pieces, with the Berlin Symphony Orchestra. After the concert, we had Bison hip with aniseed at Weinbar Rutz – Chef Müller kept the restaurant open late just for us – I'm guessing by the exchange of smiles between them and the hostile look Müller gave me, the two of them had a history. Then Jack took me to Lion Bridge in Tiergarten, the city's largest cruising area in the city. I slept all the way back on that midnight flight to Cardiff. Make up sex is brilliant._

"_What are you thinking about?" Jack said sleepily. _

"_That this is the best working vacation anyone could ask for," I answered._

"_Oh, darling," he said, sitting up and looking at me, "The night's still young!"_


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

_Without despair we will share, _

_And the joys of caring will not be replaced, _

_What has been must never end _

_And with the strength we have won't be erased _

_When the truths of love are planted firm, _

_They won't be hard to find, _

_And the words of love I speak to you _

_Will echo in your mind _

_I believe when I fall in love with you it will be forever, _

_I believe when I fall in love this time it will be forever_

- I Believe (When I Fall In Love It Will Be Forever) – Stevie Wonder

"Ianto's gained some new skills," thought Jack as he lay on his husband's lap. And although he firmly believed sex should never be a game of one-upmanship, his shy coffee boy had thrown down a gauntlet that required an answer. "And besides, it was all in good fun after all."

"Hmm?"

"Nothing." He had a plan. He turned over to his back and asked, "I forgot to ask before we left Earth, did you have a chance to look into that archive for me?"

Ianto immediately returned from his blissful, musical memory to librarian extraordinaire. "Yes! And you'd be amazed at what I found. It appears there is a possibility that Weevils are related to the Tasadines on Tarnt."

Jack pulled the comforter down his body like a peep show window but stopped before passing his navel.

"They have similar features and the skeletal structure has some remarkable similarities, particularly the clavicle, cranial size, and extremities."

"Really?" said Jack. He slid his hand between the comforter and body. One could only see the tip of his cock pointing out, implying what he was doing and the outline of his hand's slow movements made it sensuous.

"Additionally, I found that the neuronal structuring, including bisecting of the visual fields, was almost exactly alike." Ianto's voice trailed off at the end of the sentence.

Jack waited 5 heart beats then said, "Go on. I'm sure your conclusions are fascinating," he said sarcastically.

"Ah," he stumbled, "I pulled some of the old Torchwood One research that was left on the servers . . . and . . ."

Jack waited again, then prompted, "And?" The pace of his stroke increased. He knew this would work – it always did – Ianto had always loved watching Jack beat off. Jack closed his eyes and could visualized his lover biting his lower lip and feel him shifting his ass, wishing there was something there. Jack came quickly, as he is apt to do multiple times in an evening, spilling cum into his hand. He turned over and sat up on his forearms. "Spread your legs more."

Ianto did so and Jack moved closer. He kissed Ianto's lower belly, circling his inner thighs. Ianto wasn't very vocal during sex. So Jack always relied on his smell – Ianto smelled different when he was aroused, "You're like Welsh grasslands after a spring rain" - and the tautness of his skin, "Your balls greet my tongue, begging to be licked and squeezed."

Ianto sighed deeply then slide down a bit, offering his asshole. Jack greased it with his sperm, rubbing his fingers slow and deliberately around the throbbing entrance. He caressed Ianto's stomach again then pressed the index finger up to the first knuckle into the hole, paused then moved it in further, repeating this until he was past the sphincter. Jack held his hand there still for a moment and massaged Ianto's thighs again. When Ianto began to squirm and it seemed like Jack's finger was being drawn into the anus, Jack knew he was ready. He crooked the inserted finger upwards, feeling for the prostrate. Ianto's gasp told him he'd found it. Ianto began to shake his head back and forth as Jack alternated the pressure intensity, moving him from nearly ejaculating only to stop Ianto right at the edge. Ianto's head thrashing increased with each round.

At one point, Ianto reached for his penis in hope of some release. "No you don't," said Jack as he slapped away the man's hand. Ianto's eyes flew open and he whimpered. Jack chuckled, feeling empowered watching his lover's hips thrash, pleading for release. "Tell me what you want," he instructed. "I want to hear you say it. If you want it, you'll ask."

He looked at Jack harshly, just not ready to admit defeat, "I want to fuck you." His voice became hoarse, guttural, "I gotta feel that warmth around my dick."

Jack, satisfied he'd regained the upper hand again, withdrew his finger and returned to lying on his back. Ianto grabbed the K-Y from his bag and applied it liberally to his dick, rubbing it with deliberate attention while he stared at Jack's smug expression.

"Now who's smug, eh?"

Jack smiled and pulled Ianto atop of him. Ianto was hurried and entered him abruptly, making Jack yelp. Ianto stopped mid-thrust, grinding his teeth while waiting for Jack's sphincter to accept his girth. By the time the musical interlude of Pink Floyd's "Pigs (the different ones) started, Ianto's rhythm was matching the song's syncopation – entering only halfway then thrusting deeper and harder on the down beat.

"Is this what you wanted, Ianto Jones?" teased the breathless Jack, "Have you been dreaming of having me on my back begging that you go deeper, harder?"

Ianto was getting close, "I can't stop. Ah fuck, it's so smooth and tight. You undo me!" He gripped Jack's ass cheeks as he pushed in one last time. He came so hard, he wasn't certain he hadn't hurt something. His head was swimming and his body was shaking. He rolled off of Jack and lay on his back, sweaty and exhausted.

"You're alright?" smirked Jack.

"Shut up and hold me, silly."

Jack grinned and complied.

The newlyweds alternated between French kissing, heavy petting, drinking intoxicating tea, and brief naps the rest of the night. When Ianto noticed the sun peeking up, he roused Jack. "Let's watch the sun rise over the sea!" Jack thought it kind of cliché but left the bed anyway.

The rain had stopped hours ago (like they'd noticed) and left the air warm and humid. They stood together admiring Jershum Prime's sunrise colors of reddish orange and pale blue. Jack said the coloration had to do with unique chemicals in their atmosphere that interacted with rain water. Ianto was about to get his iPhone and look it up when he noticed strange objects in the sky.

"They look like falling dots," Ianto said.

"Dots falling deliberately," said Jack.

"Black dots falling into and moving deliberately in the water." Ianto paused but still came to the realization before Jack did. He went back into the tent and got Jack's Bluetooth.

By the time he returned, Jack had come to the same conclusion. He hit the com button to answer the call already coming in from Gwen.

"The invasion's started."

Both men reentered the tent, immediately putting on clothes and gathering their things. Ianto grabbed Jack's coat so was the last to leave their love den, "Gee, and we didn't get a honeymoon breakfast."


End file.
